I'm sorry, you don't what?
by Selene Illusinia
Summary: Basically a Clint/Darcy story written in one-shots and prompts. It jumps around right now, but it will be linear later. The only prompt currently not part of the ongoing storyline is 'Help'. Currently: Understanding.
1. Prompt: Nightmares

**Okay, yeah, you guys are probably going to kill me but whatever! Again, all my other stuff _WILL BE UPDATED_. Promise. Literally, this prompt-based story thingy is a dumping ground to clear my head. Any number of stories or prompt-based shorts will be put under this heading. Also means this will not be updated regularly but in segments or when the mood strikes.**

**This is also a challenge for me to attempt to actually keep people in character. Well, kinda. I don't know, I'll see what happens. Don't expect refinement or complexity in anything posted in this story space. Also, don't expect continuity.**

**Anyway, onwards.**

**Once again, nothing in this is mine.**

**Enjoy,**

**- Illusinia**

**Prompt: Nightmares**

**From:** avengers-tables .livejournal** under 50-word prompt (yes, I do intent to use all 50 words)**

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><p>Any number of things could have been responsible for her awakening. It seemed like there was always noise coming from somewhere in Avenger's Manor. Still, Darcy's sudden draw from sleep was disconcerting. Especially given the silence that met her ears.<p>

Half an hour later, she was still tossing and turning in a vain attempt to return to dreamland with no results.

"Damnit," muttered Darcy as she again counted the imperfections in the ceiling. There were exactly 32. Sighing, she rolled over again and fell promptly out of bed. "Shit."

For a moment, she considered just remaining on the floor. Then she remembered that time she'd passed out on the floor of the living room during movie night and quickly stood. Yeah, floors so weren't meant for sleeping.

With another sigh and shake of her head, Darcy stumbled from her room and headed towards the kitchen. Maybe water would do the trick. Or alcohol. Beer didn't sound so bad right now.

The light flooding into the hallway from the living room which the apartment-style rooms all branched from drew her attention to the fact that, no, she was not the only person awake. Apparently, whatever had woken her woke the rest of the mansion too. Or maybe Stark had just stumbled in for the night. If that was the case, Pepper was likely to kill him. It was what, 3 am? Yeah, she'd murder him.

Stumbling into the living room, Darcy found herself face to fact with all the current residents of the Manor, looking about as awake as she felt. Except Steve, who looked shaken to the core. Huh. Maybe Steve was what woke her up earlier.

It took her brain a moment to actually catch up to the fact that someone had apparently spoken to her. It had been so quiet in the room while she was in the hall. Or her ear's weren't working. That was possible too. Wasn't there some correlation with loud music and hearing loss? She'd have to look into that when she was more awake. Digressing.

With a shake of her head, Darcy refocused as Jane apparently repeated her previous question. "What are you doing up, Darce?"

Darcy shrugged mildly and stretched. "Eh, don't know. Somethin' woke me 'bout an hour ago. Just wanted some water."

Steve's face reddened a little. "I'm sorry about that Darcy."

"What are you sorry for? Not like it was your fault," pointed out Darcy with a shrug.

Jane touched Steve's arm lightly as he continued. "Actually, it kinda was. I sorta, well-"

"Steve had a nightmare," cut in Natasha. "His shout woke the rest of us."

"Oh," replied Darcy, again with a shrug. "Whatever, no big deal."

"Darcy!" exclaimed Jane unhappily. "That's rude!"

"Huh?" Her sleep addled and confused brain couldn't quite seem to catch up to Jane's super-fast one.

Even Pepper bristled a little. "Show some sympathy."

"Sorry," muttered Darcy. "Wanna talk about it?"

"Darce!" shouted Jane.

"That's even worse," grumbled Tony. "I mean, come on, who wants to _talk_ about a nightmare."

Darcy rolled her eyes with a slight growl of her own. "Well, how am I supposed to know?"

"Try to imagine how you would wish to be treated if you had a nightmare," suggested Natasha from her place beside Steve. "Then, exhibit that same behavior towards the good Captain."

"Indeed," agreed Thor. "Terrors of the dream can be quite difficult to handle at times. One must show support for a brother or sister in arms who suffers so."

Darcy sighed heavily and leaned against a wall with a slight growl. "Well, excuse me for not knowing how distressing a dream can be."

Everyone blinked at her a little and Steve raised his head to stare at her in awe. Clint, who'd been standing in a shadowed corner the whole time, raised a disbelieving eyebrow at her. "You've never had a nightmare."

"Nope," replied Darcy as she straightened again to enter the kitchen. There was some sputtering behind her, and she looked back to see everyone staring at her like she'd just announced that Loki was her father. "What? Its not _that_ weird."

"How can you have _never_ had a nightmare?" asked Tony with the same disbelief that Clint had displayed. "What, has your life been _that_ sheltered?"

She snorted again. "Look, I've just never had a nightmare. Its not a big deal."

"Yeah, it kinda is," pointed out Clint mildly. "It means your nuts according to the shrinks."

"Actually, its not," corrected Jane soothingly. "Its abnormal, but not directly disconcerting. Some people just don't have nightmares. Though, I have to admit Darcy, I wouldn't have expected you to be one of them."

Darcy shrugged. "What can I say, I aim to confuse. But its too early in the morning for this kinda shit, so I'm going back to bed. See you guys in a few hours. And Steve?" Steve looked up at her words, still red faced but looking curious none the less. "Try watching a happy movie or focusing on good memories. A friend of mine in high school suffered from chronic nightmares and that always helped her get back to sleep."

"Thanks," muttered Steve. "I'll try that."

She nodded and disappeared into the kitchen, got her water, and left again to return to bed.

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><p>Three weeks later, Darcy found herself sitting bolt-right up in bed and panting heavily. Her whole body shook with nerves and for a few moments she was pretty sure her legs would not hold her. Again, her mind was a confused mess, though she knew she was safe in her own bed.<p>

Slowly, she lowered her feet to the ground and padded out of her room towards the kitchen. It was 5 am, so making coffee and breakfast wasn't _completely_ out of the question. Still, the normally familiar movements didn't sooth her unsettled mind, even as she poured the coffee into a mug. Half an hour later found the remaining residents of the Manor traipsing into the kitchen to find Darcy with her head on her arms at the island.

Hearing their entry, she lifted her head to turn bleary eyes on the group. "So, gotta retract that statement about nightmares I made a few weeks back."

"Oh Darcy," muttered Jane, apparently forgiving Darcy's earlier lack of sympathy for Steven. Or maybe she just felt bad that Darcy had never faced any of this before. "What happened?"

Darcy sighed and sat up more in the seat. "Well, it started with this brightly colored field filled with pink bunnies..."

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><p>"...then the bunnies started singing this <em>song<em> and the next thing I knew, I was shaking hard and sitting up in bed," finished Darcy. "Seriously, I don't know _where_ any of that even came from."

She was getting that 'did-you-just-say-Loki-is-your-father' look again. Seriously, _why_ were they looking at her like that now? "What? You guys _asked_ what happened."

"Uh, Darcy, that isn't really a nightmare," soothed Jane slowly. "Usually, nightmares are a little more, well-"

"-Violent," cut in Natasha. "Or distressing. You had a normal dream."

Now Darcy was giving them the Loki-is-your-father look. "Uh, no, pretty sure that _wasn't_ a normal dream."

"Uh, pretty sure it _was_," replied Tony with a snort. "Unless you _usually_ dream of blood or zombies or stuff like that. Then that totally counts as a nightmare."

"Wait, most people don't dream about zombies, blood, and death on a regular basis?" asked Darcy. "What do they dream about then? Pixies and butterflies?"

Again, she was getting that look. From everyone. Sigh. Couldn't they just express their disbelief another way?

"Wow, you're fucked in the head," commented Tony. "Most people _don't_ consider dreams about zombies normal. Well, unless you're a super-villain. Then maybe zombie dreams are normal."

"Loki often dreamt of the dead rising to his command," offered Thor helpfully. "Perhaps such things are not abnormal."

"So, wait, you're sayin' that zombie dreams aren't usually considered dreams?" asked Darcy, clearly confused.

Clint shook his head and ruffled her hair a little. "Nope, those are usually nightmares."

Darcy nodded slowly. "So dreams filled with blood, violence, the sensation of being watched..."

"All nightmare material," confirmed the archer mildly as he refilled her coffee.

"Oh." She paused for a moment, taking in everything that she'd been told. "In that case, invert my previous statement. I have nightmares every night, but I never had a dream until today."

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><p><strong>Yeah, so I completely know how Darcy feels with the whole 'don't have nightmares' thing. Admittedly, I've actually had one nightmare that I can remember as being a nightmare, but that was since I was 8 when the 'end of the world' dream I used to have repeatedly stopped.<strong>

**Thanks to my friends who were patient enough to answer my questions about what people actually have nightmares about what you do when a friend has a nightmare. Seriously, I would be lost without them.**

**Also, forgot to mention: This story isn't being submitted as an actual submission for the prompt-competition. So please, if its not okay to use the table (for some reason) without submitting anything formally to the table makers, let me know. I don't want to step on anyone's toes, but I don't want to actually participate in the prompt competition things they do out of shear lack of time.  
><strong>


	2. Prompt: Stars

**Hey all, I got bored again but I'm not sure where I'm going on everything else, so here's another prompt!**

**Prompt: **Stars

**From: **avengers-tables . livejournal **under 50-word prompt (yes, I do intent to use all 50 words)**

**Pairings: **Jane/Thor, Sif/Loki, Fandral/Darcy (one-sided), Darcy/Clint

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><p>A cold breeze cut though the air, chilling all it touched. In retaliation, Jane pulled her blanket tighter around her shoulders, staring up at the starry sky. She couldn't help it, couldn't help but wonder what was beyond and how to get there. How to get to Thor.<p>

It had been nearly three months since Thor had been swept up in the Bifrost and disappeared. None of them knew what had happened, but somehow Jane just _knew_ that Thor wasn't staying away through any will of his own. Which was why she had dedicated the last few months to attempting to find the wayward Asgardian Prince.

Still, there were times when the task felt monumental. Impossible. Really, how can one cross dimensions in space? How could a simple mortal do it, if a god can't? In those moments, she felt overwhelmed.

Why is how Jane came to sit on the roof of the old gas station-come-lab in which she stationed her work. Staring up at the stars.

A sigh crossed her lips as she traced the consolations, Thor heavy on her mind. And she wondered, not for the first time, if he was staring at the stars and thinking of her as well.

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><p>Thor restrained from allowing the heavy breath held in his chest go. It was hard, truly hard. Especially when he looked to the stars and all he could remember it seemed was Jane's love for the glowing pinpricks of energy. The stars which she traced and knew by heart.<p>

For a moment, the memory of sitting on her roof-top sanctuary with her, staring at the stars and drawing for her a map of realms, rose unbidden to his mind. And with it, tears. Tears of longing for the woman he had been forcefully kept from. Tears for the brother he had lost in all this madness.

"Oh Jane, how I miss you," muttered the Thunder God in dismay. Turning his head, he examined the progress which had been made in reconstructing the Bi-frost. Of course it wouldn't be done for a good deal longer. Perhaps too long.

The heavy breath grew in his chest again, and this time Thor let the air rush free of his body. A man, even an immortal, could only take so much pressure before he caved. With the release of his breath, some of the longing eased from his body, though not his soul. He wasn't sure the longing could ever be eased from his soul.

With thoughts of training slowly replacing his thoughts of Jane, the Asgardian Prince turned from the railing of the balcony and back towards the palace. As he moved inwards however, he caught sight of a woman, his dark-haired shield maiden friend, staring up at the stars.

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><p>Sif wanted to hit something. She had never been a woman obsessed with men or love and she prided herself on that fact. Love, marriage, she cared for none of it. Or at least, she hadn't prior to somehow finding herself attracted to the second prince. The trouble-making trickster.<p>

Still, she knew he could be sweet. He'd shown her compassion and love many times before this whole mess began. She knew of his jealousy though, knew there was reason for it. The inequalities within Odin's home weren't well know except by those closest to the family. She felt the pressures placed on Loki and knew, perhaps better than anyone else other than Loki himself, how isolated the youngest prince had been.

Staring up at the stars which burned bright in the sky, she couldn't help but wonder how her lover was. _Where_ he was. Everyone said he was dead but she knew it wasn't true. Somehow, it just didn't seem possible. Loki was too clever to die so easily. Too strong.

_Loki..._

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><p>Darkness was all he could see. Darkness of the void. Total lack of light. Infinity itself. The beginning and the end. The starless world between worlds and space between space.<p>

_Please, this is becoming ridiculous. I must find a better way to occupy my mind than poetically renaming my environment._

Such a wish wasn't hard to achieve as his thoughts quickly shifted to Sif and his mind immediately became so focused as to the point that he thought he actually heard her voice whispering his name.

_Loki..._

"Oh Sif, what have I done?" wondered Loki aloud, for there was no other to hear his monolog. Well, that at least was a boon. Though talking to ones self was a sign of mental instability. Eh, it wasn't as if he always pretended to be perfectly sane to begin with.

Still, his minds continued to wander to his beautiful shield maiden and friend. Her dark hair, steely eyes that could melt into molten pools of fire with the right words. Not to mention her temperament. Such a beautiful thing, seeing her explode at an unsuspecting individual who had drawn her temper. That fiery, untamed nature was one of the first elements of her being which drew his attention. Coupled with her determination and vicious spirit, those three elements managed to strike him over the head both metaphorically and literally at a young age. He had found himself smitten with the beautiful Sif before his brother even knew that women _existed_.

Thoughts of Sif soon shifted to thoughts of his brother and the Warrior's Three. Of the adventures they had together. For a brief moment, the world itself brightened as a tear emerged not far away, flashing a glimpse of some worlds night sky, filled with stars. Briefly, he wondered if any of the others were staring at the same stars. Such a thought drew great longing for his home from Loki, and the people who resided there-in.

"Except Fandral," muttered Loki darkly, thinking of the blond warrior with his pertinence for flirting with anything that moved. "_He, _I could gladly go the rest of my life without ever seeing again."

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><p>Fandral sighed as he lay in one of the fields around Asgard, staring up at the stars. They winked at him, glittering in the darkened night. Within his mind, he could see the stars forming into the face of a glasses-wearing brunette woman he had met but briefly on Midgard, and found himself falling for.<p>

Hard.

The whole situation wasn't new for the blond warrior. In fact, he often found himself fawning over one female or another and that they often showed him the same attention in return. He was amazingly beautiful after all, and a great warrior. Still, this woman was drawing from him a very different sensation.

Since first laying eyes on her curvacious form, dark hair, creamy skin, and shocking blue eyes, no other woman had entered his mind. The most beautiful maiden in Asgard seemed to pale in comparison to the young brunette's beauty. Even now, he longed to look deep into those blue eyes and kiss those red, red lips.

"Oh Lady Darcy, when the bridge between our worlds is complete again, I will find my way back to you and sweep you off your feet," he swore firmly. "You're beauty and grace will be the envy of all of Asgard, as well as for the arm off of which you hang."

Smiling up at the stars above, Fandral closed his eyes and allowed thoughts of his dark-haired lover to enter his mind as he dreamed of reaching for her through the stars.

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><p>Darcy lay on her back in the desert, staring at the sky while cuddled, naked, beneath a blanket. Beside her, Clint Barton, a.k.a Hawkeye, shifted close to her again and lay a kiss on her shoulder. His arms were wrapped tightly around her and his head was nestled in the crook of her neck.<p>

"So why did we need to come out into the middle of no-where again?" grumbled Clint, his muscles flexing with every minor movement. "Especially when you have a perfectly usable bed back at the lab?"

She smiled some and rolled onto her side to face him. "Hey, it was worth it right?"

"No arguments," agreed Clint, a cocky grin spreading over his face. "But, it seems like we could have been more comfortable."

"Yeah," agreed Darcy. "But, I didn't want to do it at the lab 'cause Jane's there and that would feel like bragging when her own hunk o' Godly man-meat is off on some other planet."

Clint made a noise against her neck. "That's considerate of you."

"That and I don't want to break her mind anymore than it is," added Darcy with a smirk. "I'm pretty sure some of the stuff we did was more than Janey coulda stood to see if she accidentally walked in on us."

A bark of laughter was Clint's response. "So, I don't have to worry about any godly boyfriends with you, right?"

Darcy snorted slightly. "Please, what kind of god would notice an intern like me?"

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><p><strong>Yes, I did write this on Valentine's Day. The whole 'star-crossed lovers' theme seemed like a good one to roll with today. Hope everyone enjoyed this.<strong>


	3. Prompt: Kitchen

**And back to the really short prompts. At least these things are keeping me writing, which will hopefully mean I keep updating. **

**Prompt: **Kitchen

**From: **avengers-tables .livejournal **under 50-word prompt (yes, I do intent to use all 50 words)**

**Pairings: **Clint/Darcy, Fandral/Darcy (one-sided)

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><p>Kitchens are, by nature, busy places. Family gathers there, food is cooked there, and, in the case of the kitchen at the Avengers Manor, chaos forms and reigns supreme there. In most kitchens, one would find activities related to cooking or eating in the kitchen. At the Manor, there are times when it feels like everything <em>but<em> cooking and eating is occurring in the kitchen.

Which is why Pepper, Natasha, and Jane were only mildly surprised when they stepped into the kitchen that morning with Darcy in tow, to find five passed out Norse Gods laying in various locations around the room and one very naked Tony Stark passed out on the kitchen table. All asleep. Apparently from a heavy night of drinking.

Pepper had developed an eye-twitch, which was currently going off. Jane was attempting to cover her eyes while simultaneously muttering about the talk she was going to have with Thor about drinking with Tony. Natasha wasn't even trying to hide her amusement. Neither was Darcy, who was shaking her head with a grin on her face.

"Wow, I like this place already!" she declared, keeping her voice down so as not to disturb any of the previously drunk people in the room.

Pepper scowled a little and marched towards where Tony lay sprawled out. Darcy had to press her hand against her mouth to keep from bursting out laughing. Really, what better way to meet Tony Stark than finding the man naked and passed out on a kitchen table. Though, admittedly, people were expected to eat at that table. Okay, ew. Never mind.

"Darcy?" Her name said by a very familiar voice caused Darcy to turn around, half leaning backwards as she did so. Clint stood behind her covered in sweat and clad in a pair of sweatpants and running shoes. No shirt. Yum.

"Clint!" Darcy's grin was massive as she spun around to face the archer. "You're here."

Her excitement was nearly overflowing but she made no move to touch him, unsure what sort of barriers he wanted to maintain in front of others. The fact that he pulled her into a hug not a moment later deleted any idea of barriers from her mind. "Geez Darce, what are you doing here? I thought you guys weren't supposed to be in until tonight."

His unhappy tone conflicted with his hug, confusing Darcy. "Uh, yeah, we decided to come back early when Pepper realized Tony was here alone with four Asgardian men and an Asgardian woman who probably wouldn't hesitate to separate him from his intestines if he ticked her off." Gently, she drew back a little and tried to hide her unease behind a joke. "Why? Do you have a prostitute hidden away upstairs? I thought we agreed to share all sexual conquests."

Clint's face turned an interesting shade of red, though the grin that spread over his face was nothing short of perverted. "Darcy, if you'll go at it with any woman I bring back, then I'll happily go out and see if I can find another girl for us to have some fun with."

"Only if you'll do the same with any guys I bring back," bargained Darcy, knowing he would probably agree even though he didn't share. At all. Which was kinda funny given they were originally just casual sex buddies.

Sure enough, Clint made a face of consideration but didn't meet Darcy's expectations when he shook his head and dropped one of his hands to her hip. "Nah, no deal. Sorry Darce, but I'm pretty sure it would be too hard not to hit another guy if I saw him on you like that."

Well, she hadn't been expecting that. Nor was she expecting the kiss he dropped on her forehead, quick but with definite feel behind it. Between that and the hard thing poking her through her pants, it was pretty obvious that Clint was _very_ glad to see her. Still, his tone... "So if you don't have another girl upstairs, what's wrong with me coming in early?"

Clint sighed and released her, entering the kitchen and carefully averting his eyes away from the naked Tony still sleeping on the table. Pepper had refrained from her assault to watch them. Based on the way Natasha and Jane were staring at them, Darcy guessed Clint hadn't mentioned their relationship to anyone. And it was a relationship at this point. Hell, the two of them had talked every night on Skype when Clint could talk.

She watched the archer get a drink from the tap, following him in to start on some extra strong coffee she'd brought along just in case Tony and the Asgardian's decided to drink themselves silly. Back in college, she'd invented a coffee that could cure any hangover. It could also peel paint of the walls but a touch of whiskey usually took care of that. As the water began to drain through the grounds, the smell seeming to begin rousing Tony at least, Clint finally spoke.

"You coming in early isn't a problem," he confirmed with a sigh as one of his arms wrapped around her waist again. "I just, I was planning something for when you came in and now, well-"

"Now you don't get to do it?" suggested Darcy with a smile. "You know, Pepper, Jane, Natasha, and I _are_ still going out this afternoon to get to know each other."

It was true. The original plan was for Jane to come get Darcy and bring her back to New York alone. However, Coulson nixed that idea, saying it was too dangerous for the girlfriend of an Avenger to travel alone. Thor offered to come along, but somehow sticking the big guy on a commuter flight seemed like an really bad idea, so that was out of the question. Natasha had volunteered for guard duty at that point, though Darcy wasn't sure why. Originally she thought it was because of what was going on between her and Clint, but clearly Clint hadn't told anyone she was dating him so that was out. For whatever reason though, Natasha had agreed to come along and then Pepper decided to join them, citing the get together as a girls weekend to keep the rest of the Avengers from piling in to come out to Darcy's graduation. Thankfully. She wasn't honestly sure she could have dealt with that many people famous people around. Though, it would have been nice to see Clint a little earlier.

The man in question currently appeared to be doing some calculations in his head before a slow, cocky smirk spread over his lips and he leaned down to whisper in her ear. "You won't know what hit you tonight."

Darcy returned his smirk with one of her own. "Big words, archer. You sure you can live up to that promise?"

However, before Clint could reply, a startled cry came form across the room. "Lady Darcy!"

Suddenly, Darcy found her vision filled with blond as a man with golden hair and a goatee suddenly cut between her and Clint, grabbing her hand to lay a kiss on her knuckles. "Oh Lady Darcy, how I have missed you so! Your beauty is still as radiant as the first day I laid eyes on you in that harsh desert sun! Here in the softer light, your womanly features and soft curves are all the mor-"

Darcy cut him off with a fist right to his face. He was on the ground in seconds and she was waving her tazer at him threateningly. "Okay, I don't know who the hell you are dude, but if you touch me again I will tazer you in the balls. Just ask the God o' Thunder over there. I laid him out on his back the first time we met."

"Lady Darcy, please!" exclaimed Thor, who rushed to break up the apparent quarrel. "I promise you, Fandral has meant you no harm! He is most excited to see you again!"

Darcy opened her mouth to respond but another voice cut through the chaos.

"Geez, can you guys keep it down?" Said voice came from the direction of the table.

Sure enough, Darcy glanced towards the table to see Tony sitting up and rubbing his head. "Sorry dude, didn't mean to yell. Coffee's on, it'll cure everything that ails you. Especially if you add a shot of whiskey."

A grin crossed Tony's face. "I like you're style. You're Darcy, huh?"

"Yep," replied Darcy nonchalantly as she refocused on Fandral. "Hope you don't mind, but some guy is possibly gonna get tazed in your kitchen this morning if he doesn't stop giving me the creepy lovey-dovey stare soon."

Tony just waved his hand. "By all means, taze away. Long as its not me, I don't care. By the way, can you toss me the kitchen towel? Pep's giving me the 'I'm going to murder you for being naked in front of new people' look, again." The towel struck Tony in the face, curtsy of Darcy's only half focused aim. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," growled Darcy as she leveled her beloved tazer at Fandral. "Soon as this guy is down, I expect to hear why she has a look like that in the fir-."

However, all thoughts of tazing Fandral and hearing embarrassing stories left her mind as Clint grabbed her waist, disarmed her, and crashed their mouths together. In one move. Seriously, the man had talent she wasn't gonna let go of any time soon. And being kissed in front of some crazy blond dude who was clearly bordering obsessive to drive home the fact that she was taken? Bonus.

"What is this!" exclaimed Fandral as he freed himself from a slack-jawed Thor and forcefully wrenched Darcy from Clint's arms. "Unhand my lady!"

Poor Fandral didn't know what hit him. In the next few seconds, Clint had restrained Fandral and forced him to release Darcy, who had regained possession of her tazer and shot Fandral with it, straight in the balls as she'd threatened. Clint was more than a little impressed.

"It probably says bad things about my mental state that I find your accuracy with a tazer hot, doesn't it?" asked Clint casually as he watched Fandral spasm on the floor of the kitchen.

Natasha snorted, not making any moves to help. "I seem to recall you did not mind when I had a knife at your throat either. You are simply a glutton for punishment with an attraction to dangerous women."

"Clearly," muttered Jane with a sigh as she proceeded to call the S.H.I.E.L.D paramedics.

Kitchens can be weird places. People gather in them to cook, eat, and sometimes to simply spend time together. In the Avenger's Manor, the kitchen is also a place where people make-out to stake relationship claims, gods get tazed for being creepy stalkers, and billionaires wake up naked on tables after a night of drinking with the aforementioned gods. Darcy did see one upside to all of this though: at least live at the Manor would never be boring.

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><p><strong>Yes, I had to revisit Fandral's obsession. Hope everyone enjoyed this.<strong>


	4. Prompt: Darkness

**Okay, this one came out a little weird. I tried to rewrite it, but nothing would come to mind that didn't lead back to the same topics here. So I ran with it. Seriously, I don't know where this came from so please don't ask. Let me know if its too out there for anyone.**

**Prompt: **Darkness

**From: **avengers-tables .livejournal **under 50-word prompt (yes, I do intent to use all 50 words)**

**Pairings:** Darcy/Clint, Loki & Darcy interaction

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><p>"You are rather brave, to wonder through the darkness as you are." Loki's voice whispered through the air, no threat in its tone. Merely surprise.<p>

Darcy snorted slightly and turned towards where she could see him standing. He was hovering in a patch of almost complete darkness, but his form was still visible. His eyes nearly glowed, red as a demon's, from the shadows. She noted with some pleasure that he was letting his Jotunn blood show.

"Didn't you get the memo? Not all of us are afraid of the things that go bump in the night," explained Darcy mildly, hip cocking slightly. "Besides, what is there to be afraid of? There's nothing in the dark that isn't there in the light. Its just a question of if people are aware its there or not."

Loki nodded slowly, sliding a bit more out of his corner towards where she stood. "Perhaps, but you should be more afraid little mortal."

"Little?" asked Darcy with a raised eyebrow. "Dude, check again. I'm not exactly small in the weight department." She wasn't big either, curvy perhaps but not heavy set. Still, little didn't even begin to describe her.

He shrugged slightly, leaning on a wall. "All mortals are small to me. Now tell me, mortal girl, why it is you do not fear the dark."

"And you're interested, why?" asked Darcy, looking unhappy with the inquiry.

For a moment, the two just stared at each other: Loki keyed off that Darcy wasn't apparently afraid of him and Darcy irritated that Loki felt the need to question her lack of fear. Loki broke first, moving completely out of the shadows to walk around her slowly. "I have been observing you, mortal. You lack the basic fears most mortals suffer from."

Again, one of Darcy's eyebrows came up. "I wouldn't say there is a baseline set of human fears."

"I would," corrected Loki as he continued to pace around her. She let him, her eyes tracking him when he was in front of her but not shifting her head even as he moved behind her. "For example, most humans dislike having anyone who is a threat to their health behind them, yet you let me pace around you without flinching."

"I have my tazer if you try anything," replied Darcy calmly. Her voice gave no indication of the tension which thrummed through her body. She didn't like having people walk behind her hand more than any other human, perhaps even less than most, but she wasn't going to give Loki the satisfaction of knowing he made her uneasy either. She was a poli sci major, sheknew the psychology. He was using a classic intimidation move. Clearly, Loki was a man who ruled through fear. "Plus, you're a prince who rules through fear. So why give you exactly what you want?"

Loki paused in his pacing so he was directly behind her. Still, she did not move. "You are a scholar of the courts."

"Wrong word dude," corrected Darcy. "Its called politics here. Courts were thrown out in the 20th century with the two great wars. Court now refers to an aspect of the legal system."

She could feel his nod behind her, almost see it. He wasn't threatening her, he was curious. The way he was looking at her was the way Clint looked at her sometimes, when she did something that he was surprised she would be willing to do. Or even knew how to do.

"You understand how the modern methods of ruling work," confirmed Loki calmly. "I will keep this is mind. Your knowledge may come in handy when I have taken control of the world."

Darcy snorted slightly. "You want me to be your personal Machiavelli?"

"My personal what?" questioned Loki, coming to stand in front of her again. He didn't sound angry, just severely confused.

She sighed and shook her head. "He was a political adviser who wrote one of the best known guides for rulers in existence."

"I see," muttered Loki. "Then, if he was as fearless as you appear to be that is an apt comparison."

"I'm hardly fearless dude," pointed out Darcy, slightly annoyed. "I'm just not afraid of the stuff you seem to think all humans are afraid of."

Loki just shook his head. "Perhaps you have fears, mortal, but they are not the common ones. You walk the darkness as if you are protected by it, you speak to me as if I could not kill you with a snap of my fingers, you do not suffer from the fear most would feel at having a dream even a quarter as bad as the ones your mind produces every night, and even my presence did not frighten you when you first laid eyes on me."

"Because I already knew you were down here," growled Darcy. "Well, not you specifically but I could feel _something_ inhuman down here. It just happened to be you. As for the lack of nightmares, every human has a different set of fears so what one person finds scary might be normal for another. I'm not afraid of the dark because I know it shields me as much as it could shield any threats, so someone isn't going to see me any faster than I see them, if they can even see me at all. Great night vision is a huge bonus. And I'm not afraid to talk to you because all you want is someone totalk to."

She felt him stiffen and knew right then that she'd struck the nail on the head. "You cannot know this mortal."

"Dude, I'm sleeping with Hawkeye, the king of not telling me what he needs," pointed out Darcy. "I've adapted. You learn to read people pretty quick when one of the people you're closest to won't tell you what he wants." She paused to consider that for a moment. "Honestly, you two are probably more similar than you'd want to think, though you and Tony are the closest in personality. Not that I'll ever tell _Tony_ that, but still..."

Loki frowned and stepped close to Darcy, leaning in towards her face. "You have a strange ability, Darcy Lewis."

She blinked up at him, startled by the topic change. "Uh, and what ability would that be?"

"Simple," replied Loki with a smirk. "Your eyes see more than what is in front of you. We have been standing in absolute darkness for the past ten minutes, since I emerged into view, and you have yet to stop following me with your eyes. There is no light here little mortal, so I know your eyes can not see me."

Her back stiffened and her whole body went on alert, even as her hand fell towards where she kept her tazer and a knife Clint insisted she carry, because a tazer only had so many charges. "What do you mean? I can see just fine. Your magic must be out of whack."

"Hardly," assured Loki with a grin as the alley began to grow lighter, the physical objects she hadn't realized had faded to the point of being completely invisible coming back into view. "I know what my magic is capable of, and I have now confirmed exactly what _you_ are capable of as well. Perhaps I should tell your Archer that you are not so normal, hm? That you can use the Midgardian variation of magic? The question which now stands concerns which magics you can see and use." One of his hands waved through the air as if the thought were of no real consequence. "This will not be our last meeting, Darcy Lewis. You intrigue me, and now I find myself curious to know the extent of your powers."

"Darcy?" the sound of a voice calling her name from near the end of the alley drew Loki's attention, but hers never wavered.

Loki just smirked. "It seems our little game is over for now." His eyes drifted back to her own, still that same glowing red, except now there was only interest reflected in their depths. "Return to your love, Darcy Lewis. I will come to test you again at a different time."

With that, Loki disappeared, leaving Darcy standing in the middle of a darkened alley with Clint running towards her almost frantic. His arms were around her in a heartbeat, just as the rest of the Avengers came barreling into the narrow thorough-fair. One of his hands drifted to her cheek, turning her eyes onto him. She watched his eyebrows furrow, felt him stiffen a little.

"Darcy?" he sounded confused, as if he weren't sure who he was looking at.

She gave him a soft smile instead. "Hey Clint, where's the party?"

"Here, apparently," muttered Tony, who was clad in his Iron Man suit and scanning the cramped space for any sign of Loki.

Natasha narrowed her eyes at Darcy. "We were chasing Loki when he disappeared down here. Then, we come down here and you emerge from seemingly nowhere."

Darcy opened her mouth to respond, but Clint tilted her head up so he could look her straight in the eye. Confusion radiated from his own orbs. He opened his mouth to attempt to say something, but couldn't seem to form the words. She just waited patiently for him to work out what he wanted to say. For all of ten seconds. "Geez Clint, spit it out already."

Tony cut in before Clint could say a word. "Hey Darce, aren't your eyes blue?"

She blinked at him like he was insane, jerking her head out of Clint's grip. "Uh, yeah? Why?"

Natasha cut in. "So why do they now appear to be yellow."

Thankfully, poli sci meant you learned how to bullshit on the spot. And well. "Its just the lighting down here."

Clint narrowed his eyes at her. "I've seen your eyes in the dark before Darce, and they've never looked yellow before."

Again, Darcy shrugged, trying to remain completely relaxed and casual. She should have realized the color change would occur as soon as Loki pointed out that she could still see him, even in absolute darkness. "Eh, sometimes it happens, sometimes it doesn't. Different lighting and all that. The reflection changes and the color appears to change."

Clint still didn't look like he believed her, but he didn't push it either. Especially with the others looking on and apparently accepting her explanation. That was one of the best things about Clint, if she didn't want to talk about something in public, he didn't push it until they got some place where they were alone. And by then her eyes would be blue again. No one would ever know that, sometimes in the dark, her eyes faded to the soft yellow of a wolf's. Or that the change was why, even in almost absolute darkness, she could see everything.

* * *

><p><strong>Yeah, I've actually been asked that about my own eyes. I have blue but there's a ring of yellowish orange around the pupil that expands to take over my whole eye when its dark outside. So that's where that came form. <strong>


	5. Prompt: Trust

**And, yet another prompt answered. Just a warning now, there is self-doubt and some drinking while pregnant in this. Don't be alarmed please. Also, its really, _really_ early trimester drinking. As in before most women even know their pregnant drinking. The kind of thing that probably happens regularly anyway.**

**Moving on...**

**Ok, this is a kinda emotionally-charged piece. Not my usual comedic with a little sap thing. Also, I apologize for anything too strange in the first half this story. I was actually tipsy when I wrote it, but I also read through it and corrected any errors that I saw. If this is too strange or something, or if I offend anyone, tell me and I'll take it down and write a different prompt that ties in with _Darkness_.**

**Hopefully this is semi-enjoyable.**

**- Illusinia **

**Prompt: **Trust

**From: **avengers-tables .livejournal **under 50-word prompt (yes, I do intent to use all 50 words)**

**Pairings:** Darcy/Clint

* * *

><p>Darcy was tipsy. She'd admit that. Tipsy and thinking of Clint. Now <em>that<em> was a dangerous combination. Like Loki and the topic of his family. Except less explosive. What was she thinking about again?

Oh yeah, Clint. And trust.

It wasn't that she didn't trust Clint, she trusted him a lot. But she also understood biology and human instinct. Something some women would deny understanding while others would claim to understand it without actually _understanding_ it. She'd taken Anthropology classes, psychology classes, and biology classes. Basically, any class that could offer insight into the inner workings of the human mind.

She understood the need to reproduce, the need to have sex with as many females as the guy could get away with. It wasn't hard. Women were driven by the urge to have as much **protection** as possible, men were driven to reproduce as many times as possible. Easy.

The issue was practical application and culture. That's where the issues cropped up. And where Darcy found her trust wavering. Kind of.

She trusted Clint. Trusted him a lot. But she also understood biology. Men were driven to reproduce as many times as they could, thus men were not always loyal. And Clint was male.

But he was male and loyal as a dog at times. Did that mean she could trust him when he was out on a mission with Widow? When she was home. Alone. Drinking when she _knew_ she wasn't supposed to be, but was the only one to know that?

The doctors visit was tomorrow and she was scared. Thus far, she'd been good about the caffeine. And her diet. She'd done the research, knew what alcohol could do to the baby potentially in her womb. But she didn't know if a baby was there. Didn't know if anyone but was _actually _being affected except her. And she knew that, even if she was carrying, the damage she did to herself tonight wouldn't necessarily hurt her potential unborn child. Would it?

She had weighed every consideration. Gone over every concern. None of the literature she'd read suggested that she should be worried. Especially the bit about early-pregnancy drinking. As in, drinking before you were aware of a child's presence. Early like she was. And she only knew because of the feeling in her lower abdomen. The sensation of another energy source being present.

Was it bad that she was tipsy? Yes.

She knew that. Especially given she didn't want to hurt her potential child. But she was so scared...

How does one deal with pregnancy at 24? Especially when your partner is a superhero with no powers who's out running around with other empowered superhero's who could get the non-powered superhero's killed. That didn't sound fun. In fact, it sounded pretty bad. Even if she was pretty sure the Avenger's would protect her and her child no matter what. But maybe that was wishful thinking. Maybe it was the alcohol. God, she hoped her baby was okay.

A glass sat next to her, half full. She picked it up and stood, moving to the sink so she could pour the toxic chemical out. No more alcohol for her. She could feel the presence of the child in her womb. There was nothing in the world frightening enough to make her cause the child harm. Nothing.

Sighing, she stood at the sink a moment, staring at the drain before turning away and moving into her room. Her thoughts were sobering. With the calm that came before the storm, she dressed for bed and curled up in the sheets. Maybe, if she was lucky, Clint would show up before tomorrow. Maybe, she could trust him with her secret; all of the secrets she had.

Luck was on her side.

* * *

><p>His presence woke her before his body sliding into bed behind her did. One of his arms wrapped around her tightly and she noted that he smelled of soap. Apparently he'd showered before coming to her. To her apartment and her bed. <em>Her<em> home.

One of his arms wrapped around her waist, drawing her close. She brought her own hand up to inter-twine with his fingers at her hip. Then slid their hands around so his palm rested against the cradle of her hips. Where their _child_ rested. She could feel the soft presence pulse inside her.

"Hey." Her words were soft, whispered.

Clint grunted behind her. "Hey yourself. Sorry for waking you."

Darcy shrugged, paused for a moment, and took a metaphorical step forward. She was carrying his child, the time to consider if she trusted him or not was far gone. "Your presence woke me before you even entered the room."

"Presence?" murmured Clint, dropping a kiss on her shoulder. "What, you can feel when people enter a room now?"

Her pulse went up a little, her hand gripping his tighter. "I've _always_ been able to do that."

A beat pass, then two, before Clint moved his hand so he could grip her hip again, using the leverage to turn her towards him. "Darce?"

Darcy focused on his chest for a moment, one of her hands coming up to feel the beat of his heart, the expansion of his ribs with his lungs. Taking a deep breath of her own, she lifted her eyes to meet his own blue ones. "Ever since I was a baby, my mother has told me stories about how I could see and feel people around me. Understand them in a way that I shouldn't have been able to. I knew when someone was a bad person, no matter how they were dressed, knew when people were good and kind no matter how they looked. When I have my eyes shut, I can feel people moving around me. Know where they are at all times. Walls can't block the movement either. Not unless I've done something to _make it _ so the walls block that feeling."

His eyes searched hers, one hand rising to cup her cheek. The other remained firmly on her hip. "Why are you telling me this now?"

No comment about how strange her ability was. No ridicule or mockery. No doubt about her claims. Understanding and acceptance were his response.

_Trust. I can trust him._

Her heart rate sped up and she brought his hand at her cheek back to her lower abdomen. Directly over where their child lay. _Their child_. Instead of saying anything though, she touched Clint's own life force, his energy. Watched his facial features change as he felt her own energy shifting against his.

"Darcy-" his words were a gasp, even as he pulled away a little.

"Do you trust me?" She wouldn't restrain him, knew that not everyone was ready to feel the subverted world she could so easily.

Instead of speaking, he kissed her softly. "I trust you completely."

It was a statement, firmly said with not a hint of doubt. She took it as a cue to continue. Her eyes never left his as she wrapped her energy around him, then linked them together so he could see as she could. His gasp told her that he could see as she could. She imagined the first time someone saw exactly what she had her whole life it was probably a pretty shocking experience.

"Look down," was her whispered command and she saw his eyes drop to her chest. "Lower." Those stormy eyes dropped to her stomach. She tilted his head down so his eyes would be focused on her hips and removed their linked hands.

All the air left his lungs at once and for a frightening moment he didn't draw new breath. Then, he was breathing again, soft gasping breaths, and his eyes were riveted to where the soft glow of their child lay, no larger than her thumb nail at the moment but a soft glow which contrasted with her own. His thumb stroked over the exact spot, caressing her skin as if he wanted to touch the tiny life form.

"Darcy, are you, is that...?" His words were choppy and surprised, awed.

She felt her heart swell. "Yes." When his eyes flew up to her own she continued in a whispered voice. "I'm pregnant Clint. That's our child."

His lips were on hers again, kissing her with the love and devotion that he felt for her. He trusted her enough to let her do something to him that he couldn't stop her from doing if she didn't want to stop. She trusted him with her secret, the knowledge that she had some power, even if she hadn't explained it all.

Between them, she felt the pulse of their child and knew, just _knew_, the child in her womb would possess her power as well. And Clint would be trusted with that knowledge too.

* * *

><p><strong>Good, bad, offensive, take it down, anything like that, please let me know. I'm not trying to offend and I really do understand the serious nature of drinking while pregnant.<strong>


	6. Prompt: Power

**And we have Loki's return following _Darkness_! Hope you guys like it. Again, 'magic' Darcy. Hope you guys like it.**

**Illusinia**

**Prompt: **Power

**From: **avengers-tables .livejournal **under 50-word prompt (yes, I do intent to use all 50 words)**

**Pairings:** Darcy/Clint, Loki & Darcy interaction

* * *

><p>He'd said he would be back to test her. She hadn't expected him to show up at S.H.I.E.L.D. No one had. Which was why when he popped into the hallway while she was on her way out of a meeting and blocked her path, no one seemed able to move for a moment. The Avenger's weren't there. They had been deployed earlier to deal with a disturbance at the park. It was done with now, but they hadn't returned.<p>

She heard Coulson pull out a gun behind her then yelp. Glancing back, she realized his gun had turned into a snake and bitten him. The green and yellow snake slithered by her and up to Loki, crawling up his leg and into his hand where it promptly became a gun again. Huh, neat trick.

Loki considered the object in his hand for a moment, then tossed it over his shoulder carelessly. "You Midgardians have such strange weapons. Why use these things when you have magic users among you?"

Darcy gulped slightly, because his eyes slid to her when he mentioned magic users. She literally _felt_ Coulson freeze behind her. Loki just kept his eyes locked on her, and her own stayed firmly on his. "Hey, don't look at me. I don't know anything about magic."

A smile slid across Loki's face. "And that, my dear Midgardian witch, is a complete lie. It could have been a good one too, given how you often act as if you know far less than you do."

"You've been stalking me?" growled Darcy. Of course, she knew that to some extent. She'd felt him watching her when she was out and about. Especially at the bar the other night, when she'd been careful not to drink anything with alcohol. Panic suddenly rose up in her. _Shit. If he knows I'm pregnant..._

Apparently, her poker face wasn't as good as she would have liked, because he chuckled slightly to draw back her attention. "Yes little mortal, I know about the child you carry. It will be another Midgardian witch, will it not?"

She backed away a little, moving towards where she could feel Coulson and the others at her back. Silently, she reached out with her energy to feel where Clint was. He was on his way back. She sent him a diluted bolt of panic. Fear. He needed to know something was wrong.

The response was instantaneous, his own panic and fear struck hers as well as determination. They were moving fast now. They'd be there shortly.

Her mind returned to the room where they stood, Loki's eyes locked on her and a smirk on his face. "You're magic is stronger than I would have thought. You can send messages over long distances. Does your lover know what he is racing towards, or did you simply tell him there was trouble?"

"I didn't tell him anything," rebuked Darcy. Denial. She needed to keep Loki in the dark. Power was given to her, but it wasn't a free gift. Power always came with a price, and the price for hers was steep. "Its kinda hard to talk with someone who's not, you know, _here_. Besides, how would I talk to him? I don't have a phone next to my ear."

Loki brushed off her comment. "An unnecessary piece of Midgardian technology. I have done some research on Midgardian magic. It's powerful when one can use it. So tell me, little mortal, how powerful are you?"

"I'm not powerful," shot back Darcy. "I have no power and I can't use magic!"

"Yet, you can see far more than you let on," retorted Loki, who was apparently getting some kind of sick pleasure out of their argument. "As I previously informed you when we spoke in that alley, we were in absolute darkness, yet your eyes followed me. I taunted you, but you did not show any fear."

Darcy allowed a faint smirk to cross her lips and her voice dropped. "I knew what you needed, even though you denied it."

His back stiffened as he gave her a glare. "I do _not_ need someone to speak with!"

"No," agreed Darcy calmly. "You need someone who can understand, relate. You need someone who _gets_ why you've gone off the deep end and doesn't judge you for it. Which is why you're stalking me."

"No, I am merely observing you because you are interesting," argued Loki, though his calm facade was fading rapidly. "You use magic, something with most Midgardian's are unable to do."

Darcy shook her head slowly, reaching out to touch Clint again and see where he was. The jet had landed, and he was running towards her location. "Its not magic Loki. Observation isn't magic."

The smirk was forming again, much to Darcy's chagrin. "You're lover is almost here, but he can not save you. Your magic is strong, and I will test you so I might know _how_ strong."

Pounding footsteps echoed up through the hall as Clint and the rest of the Avengers bolted in from behind where Loki stood. However, he merely lashed out with an arm and sent a wind through the corridor, knocking them down like bowling pins. Then, he grabbed Darcy's arm.

Power came with a price, always with a price. However, with age came strength. And Darcy was old enough to be very strong. Still, her power could be evoked without her permission, especially if she felt threatened. Which is exactly how she felt at the moment.

Thus, when Loki's eyes widened, she knew he felt the pull. The threat. But there wasn't enough time for him to react, to pull away. Instead, he screamed. She knew the pain had to be excruciating. The man was literally being burned alive on a spiritual level. He released her and fell to the ground in agony. She dropped down as well and lay her hand on his head, extinguishing the flames that no one else could see.

Several beats passed before he whimpered and opened his eyes. No one else moved as he looked at her, wide eyed and slack jawed. Loki was shocked, amazed. She had amazed the God of Mischief. That couldn't be good.

"Your magic runs deep," it was almost whispered, but she knew everyone else could hear it. "It lights the darkness."

She watched Loki carefully, could see the shifting of his own energy as his body rebalanced itself to counter the effects of her own power. His energy wasn't reforming the way it had been before. It was softer now, kinder. Balanced. Not the menacing sensation it had been before. He was rebalancing into what he had been before. The being he had been before.

"Feeling better?" her words were soft, encouraging.

He nodded uncertainly, then focused his eyes on her waist. "Is your child well?"

Darcy felt her shoulders relax as she nodded and leaned back to rest on her heels. "Like you said, my kid's gonna be like me. A little energy expenditure isn't gonna hurt him or her."

Loki nodded, still laying on the floor, and tilted his head back to look at Clint, who had gotten back on his feet and was standing, slack jawed, staring at Darcy. "You have a strong bride, Clint Barton. Your child will be just as strong. Make sure they remain safe and well, for all our sakes."

She lightly struck him on the shoulder, just as she knew Sif often had. The brief contact had given her more glimpses at Loki's memories; her little stunt had reminded him of the dark-haired shield maiden. "As if you don't have to do the same thing with Sif."

His eyes darted to hers, wide with shock. Everyone had refocused on her again, making her self conscious. "How do you know of my affections for Sif?" Darcy just glanced away and for a moment Loki stared at her hard before realization struck him. "You can see my memories."

"Could," corrected Darcy quietly. "Skin contact lets me see memories from other people. Kinda why I avoid physical contact."

Loki nodded slowly. "Does clothing dampen the connection?"

"A little," admitted Darcy quietly. "Doesn't stop it though. Unless I create a barrier, I get memories that aren't mine."

"The price of power," nodded Loki in understanding. "Yours is a lack of silence and an inability to maintain the privacy of others when you're present."

She nodded again, eyes moving to meet Clint's. He didn't look upset or shocked. Didn't even look angry she'd kept that from him. Instead, he just looked relieved.

Her eyes returned to Loki for a moment, but he was already sitting up. "Go to your lover, his worry for your safety is great."

"Thanks," whispered Darcy as she stood. Clint was beside her not a moment later, arms around her waist and words of relief falling from his lips. She returned his hug and pressed her face into his shoulder as she felt Thor walk by her to his brother.

She could hear their greeting, Thor's relief as his brother's apparent healing and the like. But none of it registered really. Clint was holding her tight, showing how much he accepted who she was. He wasn't frightened by her power, at least not enough to try to push her away.

Behind them, Loki cleared his throat and she turned to face him. Well, as much as Clint would allow.

The mischievous god was giving her a smile. "Thank you, Darcy Lewis."

Coulson choked behind him, loudly. Apparently, no one had ever thought a god would be thanking Darcy. Well, okay, the thought hadn't crossed her mind either but it wasn't _that_ shocking.

"You're welcome Loki," replied Darcy with a smile. "Though, I gotta say, if I'd known lighting you on fire would solve everything, I would have done it a long time ago."

Clint choked a little behind her and his head snapped up. "You lit Loki _on fire?_"

Her head fell back to rest on his shoulder. "Duh, why do you think he was flailing around on the ground in pain?"

Loki just laughed. "A strange Midgardian witch, that is you Miss Lewis."

"I am to entertain," shrugged Darcy, eyes turning back to Loki.

He gave her a smile in return and nodded. "I would like permission to discuss the extent of your power with you at a later time though. In all of the years I have been alive, one such as yourself has never crossed my path."

Darcy's smile lost a little power as she drew back some. "Yeah, Loki, someone has. You just didn't know it."

"Lady Darcy?" queried Thor.

"Darcy?" asked Clint in a whisper.

Darcy just shook her head. "Maybe, someday, I'll tell you guys some things that mortals really aren't supposed to know. But today? Today I'm beat and just want to go sleep. Pregnancy takes a lot out of you."

"Not yet Miss Lewis," corrected Coulson. "We still have to debrief-"

"That can be done later," interrupted Fury. All heads snapped to look at the Director, who had almost literally just appeared out of thin air. "Miss Lewis, go with Agent Barton and get some rest. You can be debriefed later."

One of Darcy's eyebrows rose as she looked at Fury, surprised by the lenience. What she saw was understanding and a shared kinship. Apparently, she wasn't the only powerful member of S.H.I.E.L.D.

"Will you be doing the debriefing personally?" asked Darcy with a grin.

Fury shot her back a half smirk. "You can count on it, Miss Lewis."

"Good," grinned back Darcy. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

* * *

><p><strong>Good, bad, will I be hunted down if I do one more of these? Let me know please!<strong>


	7. Prompt: Help

**Ok, this one is a little different in that the prompt ended up changing halfway through. It started as 'again' and became 'help' as the story progressed. Not the usual way I like to do it, but still fun. This isn't connected with anything else I've done thus far story wise. Hopefully its still funny though.**

**Enjoy everyone.**

**- Illusinia**

**Prompt: **Help

**From: ** **under 50-word prompt (yes, I do intent to use all 50 words)**

**Pairing: **Darcy/Clint, previous Darcy/Loki

* * *

><p>He'd done it again. Darcy didn't know what she was going to do with him. Once again, she had come home to a messy house and a litany of whines and moans. All attempts to quell her anger. Really, he <em>knew<em> she wasn't going to be happy, so why did he do it?

And he knew she was going to be pissed. Her books were all over the ground, a phone book had been torn up with the pieces spread all over the room, and there were muddy tracks continuing through the house into her bedroom. Oh, he was in so much trouble.

"Damnit Clint, get out here!" shouted Darcy angrily. A whimper was his response before he came padding out of the bedroom, tail tucked between his legs and head hanging low. His eyes were pleading and sad, filled with a remorse most dog's couldn't pull off. Of course, most dogs weren't actually a superhero-turned-pharaoh dog by the God of Thunder's brother, who thought it would be a funny prank.

Unfortunately, no one could find said God of Mischief, which left Clint stuck in a dog's body and Darcy on babysitting duty. And she wasn't happy about it. Especially sense Thor had pretty much literally dropped Clint at her front door, informed Darcy of what had happened, then departed immediately with the assurance he would be fine. Maybe he'd even turn back before they found Loki. Yet, almost a week later, Clint was still a dog.

A dog who had, once again, destroyed part of her house. "Damnit Clint, what am I going to do with you? I know you're human brain is in there somewhere." Namely because dog-Clint had an odd obsession with the girls which was identical to human-Clint's own interest. Literally, the man took every opportunity he could to stare at her, or it at least felt that way. Well, now he just fell asleep with his muzzle buried in her chest or rested his head between her boobs when he was laying down with her.

With a sigh, she again surveyed the damage before refocusing on Clint, who was giving her puppy-dog eyes and whimpering at her feet. Because the last time he did this, she made him sleep in the bathroom for the night, instead of her bed. Which he apparently liked. A lot.

"Gods Clint, I can't believe this," muttered Darcy. "What the hell do you want me to do? It isn't like I can turn you back."

He whimpered at her feet again, nudging her knee with his nose. Poor guy. She couldn't imagine it was much fun to be stuck in a dog's body, especially with a human mind. Plus, Clint was uses to being acrobatic and graceful. Though his dog's body _looked_ graceful, he wasn't particularly skilled at the whole 'walking-on-four-feet' bit. Amusing for Darcy, painful for Clint. And it honestly probably explained the mess...

Sighing, she dropped onto the couch and, as she had done repeatedly in the past week, patted the couch cushion next to her as a sign for Clint to jump up. Which he did, with his head landing in her boobs almost immediately upon his reaching her. Damn perverted archer-dog.

"Watch the nose buddy!" exclaimed Darcy, slightly huffy. His sniffer was wet and cold. Clint whimpered before laying his head in her lap and she sighed. One hand absentmindedly started stroking dog-Clint's head, her fingers tracing through the surprisingly soft hair. Apparently pharaoh hounds were a soft-haired breed. Or Clint was at least.

Her eyes stayed on Clint, even as she flipped on his favorite show for him. "What are we gonna do Clint? There has to be a way to change you back."

Clint whimpered a little, nuzzling against Darcy's chest and laying his head on her thigh. Her heart broke a little for the man-turned-dog. Yeah, sure, her and Clint were barely friends when he was human and she wasn't really sure why Thor dropped him off with her as opposed to Widow or Coulson, but she still felt for the man. Besides, he was the best eye-candy that the Avenger's had to offer. Thor was nice, but he had too much muscle and it just felt wrong to ogle Steve on some level. The man practically lived like a saint. That pretty much left Tony, who was entertaining to watch but not to ogle and Dr. Banner which, well, _wasn't_ so entertaining. Especially when the big green rage machine came out. And Loki wasn't technically an Avenger, though he was nice to look at. Something about the lean build, slicked back hair, and air of heavy confidence...

In her lap, Clint made a sound and she looked down at him as he knelt up on his front paws and nuzzled her chin. Huh, that was different. Normally, he didn't really show any kind of affection towards her like that. Yeah, he cuddled with her at night and he tended to curl up with her on the couch, but nuzzling her was new. Well, intentional nuzzling that wasn't her boobs was. Again, damn perverted dog.

"What's wrong Clint?" asked Darcy gently, her hands stroking over his ears. "You keep whimpering at me. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were trying to get my attention repeatedly."

As he had done several times in the past week when Darcy had said certain things, Clint ducked his doggy head and burrowed into her lap with a whimper. Okay, she was seriously stumped now. He almost looked embarrassed. Seriously, what was his issue?

Darcy shook her head and refocused on the TV, nodding off slightly until a sudden 'pop' made her almost jump out of her skin. Her head shot around rapidly to face Loki, who had apparently teleported into her living room. Huh. Well, she probably shouldn't be surprised by now.

"Geez Loki, way to give a girl a heart attack," muttered Darcy as she launched herself over the back of the couch so she could fully face the God of Mischief. The grinning God. "Uh, Loki? You're doing the deranged smile thing again."

"My apologizes Darcy Lewis," offered Loki with a faint bow, though he almost looked to be hopping out of his skin. "I didn't mean to startle you, but I wanted to see how you and Clint Barton were progressing."

Darcy blinked at Loki cluelessly. "Progressing?"

Behind her, she heard Clint move so his paws were on the back of the couch and he growled in Loki's general direction. Apparently, he wasn't very happy to see Loki. Though, if Loki had turned her into a dog, she probably wouldn't be either.

For his part, Loki just looked confused. "Why is Clint Barton still a dog?"

"Uh, because you turned him into one?" suggested Darcy, giving him a 'no shit' look.

"Yes," confirmed Loki. "I did and Thor was supposed to bring him here so you could break this spell."

Darcy and Clint both glanced at each other before refocusing on Loki. Both of them must have looked pretty confused, because Loki sighed heavily and gestured between them. "Do you not read your own tales of fantasy? When an individual is forcefully shifted between forms, a kiss returns them to normal."

The situation clicked for Darcy at that moment, though Clint still looked confused. "Wait, you turned Clint into a dog so I'd have to kiss him to turn him back? Also, I'm pretty sure it's supposed to be a frog."

Loki just shrugged. "Frogs are rather disgusting creatures most of the time and I thought you would appreciate a large animal companion to a small amphibian."

"But you turned him into an animal so the girl of his dreams would have to kiss him in order to turn him back," repeated Darcy, still confused.

"Yes," confirmed Loki. "We had all grown sick of the archer's moping."

Clint growled a little, but it was halfhearted at best. Darcy just shook her head. "Well, I'm sorry Clint was moping but you should have dropped him off with Natasha if you wanted to go with the 'true love' angle or whatever it is."

It was apparently Loki's turn to look confused and even Clint made a startled noise. "Why would I choose to leave him with the Widow for such a thing?"

"Uh, because he's head-over-heels for Natasha?" suggested Darcy with a 'what rock are you living under' look.

Clint sounded more confused at that explanation while Loki just shook his head. "Really, where do you get such ideas Darcy?"

Darcy was starting to feel like she was missing a very big part of the puzzle. "Oh I don't know, because he's always with Natasha? Always leaning close to Natasha? Always staring at or guarding Natasha? Just seemed like the obvious conclusion."

Loki shook his head and focused on Clint. "Barton, do you have a love for the Widow?"

Clint shook his head firmly back and fourth with such rapid force that Darcy thought he was going to fall over on the couch. She was pretty sure it would have been vehemently if he was human. Her mouth dropped open a little. "Clint?"

"Do you have a love for Darcy Lewis?" continued Loki, ignoring Darcy's attempts to break in. Clint whimpered and looked down a little, apparently embarrassed, but still nodded his head up and down slightly.

Darcy felt her heart swell a little. Silently, she reached out and stroked the top of Clint's head. "Are you serious Clint? 'Cause if a kiss is what it'll take to turn you back, I'll do it. Doesn't matter if you only let me because its necessary."

Clint actually made a minor distressed sound and rapidly scrambled towards her. It resulted in him falling off the back of the couch and trapping Darcy on the ground. He would later insist it was an accident, and Darcy would humor him, but her and Loki would always silently maintain the move was intentional.

"Alright, alright," murmured Darcy with a smile as she sat up on an elbow, the other hand stroking the top of Clint's head. "I get it. Geez, no need to get me on my back to prove it."

Clint would probably have been blushing or grinning if he was human. With him, it was hard to tell. Instead, his face more looked like a mix of embarrassed and uncertain with some horny thrown in. Yeah, that was Clint.

"So how does this work Loki?" asked Darcy calmly as she tilted her head backwards to look up at him. "Can I just kiss him on the nose or do I have to shove my tongue in his mouth?"

Darcy had to admit, she'd never heard a dog choke quite like Clint was at the moment. Loki cracked up. "You are a mischievous one, Darcy Lewis. I knew there was a reason I chose to assist you and the archer."

"Please, you just owe me for rolling with the whole 'make Fury think he's on acid' thing," insisted Darcy with a smirk. "Which was great, I might add. You've got to tell me how you made the walls melt like that."

"Magic," replied Loki with a grin. "As for the kiss, a simple touch to his nose or mouth should suffice, though if you wish to stick your tongue in his mouth you may. Just understand that I will be taking photographs if you do. I understand that there is a community of individuals who would highly prize such an image."

Darcy cracked up even as Clint growled contritely at Loki. She knew he wouldn't actually do that, not only would she kick his ass but so would Thor. Gods, she was so glad Loki was on their side. Life without him wasn't nearly as much fun. "Good to know dude."

With that, Darcy turned Clint's head towards her and dropped a kiss on his doggy mouth. It worked pretty well apparently, because in seconds it was a human Clint Barton pinning her to the ground. A very naked human Clint Barton. Not that Darcy cared, but she thought Clint might because it looked like Loki just snapped a photograph. "I thought the photos only came if I did something bestiality-related."

Loki snorted slightly. "Hardly. When the others informed me that Barton was still a dog, I realized you were not making the connection to your fantasy tales and that he probably knew no better. Thus, I agreed to come expedite the situation so no one else need put themselves in the position of admitting to involvement. This is the proof that I did as I said."

Both of Darcy's eyebrows shot up as Clint froze against her. "How many people were involved?"

"All of the Avengers save Banner, who simply wished us the best of luck," replied Loki casually. "Oh, and Barton was obviously unwillingly a part of this. Really though, if he had simply swallowed his reservations and pursued you properly instead of whining about it we wouldn't have felt the need to use such extreme measures."

Darcy nodded, smirking slightly. "He must have hated it when we were dating."

"If two individuals engaging in a regular sexual encounter which is the only thing separating them from simply being close friends qualifies then dating," reminded Loki with his own smirk. "I believe Widow said something about his inquiries to Thor over ways to kill me occurring?"

"I still remember what Thor said too," growled Clint as he finally lifted his head to glare at Loki. His whole face was red, likely from embarrassment, but his eyes were a clear threat. "Seriously, that _wasn't_ fun and if you do it again, I'll be sure to test out a few theories concerning your immortality."

Loki raised a casual eyebrow. "Are you going to properly engage in courting Darcy from this point forward?"

Clint was making that choked sound again, but at least this time it sounded more like agreement than death-by-breathing.

Darcy smiled slightly and dropped a kiss on his temple. "No more interference Loki. At least not without warning me first so I know what to do. He would have been human days ago if I'd known you did this just so we'd kiss already."

"Noted," confirmed Loki. "Now, if you will excuse me, I have mischief to make."

Then Loki disappeared with a wink, leaving Darcy still pinned to the ground by a naked Clint in her living room. For a moment, she considered where this feel on her good to bad scale but quickly realized Loki had left under worse circumstances. Such as when they found out she made his magic go haywire and he'd accidentally torn open a rift in the space-time continuum, releasing an array of magical beings on New York City. At least she knew her bj's were above par.

Speaking of sexy fun, she still had a very naked Clint on her. The grin which crossed her face was pure mischief. "So, Clint, since you're already naked and on top, wanna have some fun?"

She expected profuse blushing and denial. Instead, he gave her the look of a starving man who'd just been offered a buffet. Wow, that look was hot. He growled a little too, actually _growled,_ when he responded. "Don't tease Darcy, today has been rough enough already."

"The last _week_ has been rough for you," pointed out Darcy with a grin before she pulled him down for their first human kiss. "And I wasn't teasing."

Suffice to say, Darcy wasn't sure she'd be able to wall right the next day by the end of the night. But Clint was hers, something she greatly appreciated, and the best part of it all? His wet nose wasn't jabbing into her ass at night any more.


	8. Prompt: In the Future

**Yeah, I partially blame 'Mischief Loves a Challenge' for this one. I seriously want to write a super-sappy and cute scene (for reasons beyond my understanding given I never write those well), so I converted that energy into this piece. Sorry if its crap.**

**- Illusinia**

**Prompt: **in the future

**From: **avengers-tables .livejournal **under 50-word prompt (yes, I do intent to use all 50 words)**

**Pairings: **Clint/Darcy

* * *

><p>Everything felt a little hazy to Darcy, as if the world around her wasn't a solid as it could be. Of course, on a day when her powers were acting up, the whole world could feel like a strange kind of pot high. This wasn't the same fuzziness as that though, more of a 'the world isn't physically fully formed' than a 'the world is <em>there<em>, you just can't see it' sensation. Not that identifying that sensation really helped anything, but it was a good thing to note.

A slight breeze danced across Darcy's skin from the open window to the simple room she stood in. Simple in the sense that it lacked copious amounts of decorative junk and bright or flashy furniture. No, the room was all dark woods, soft tans, and off whites that left her feeling peaceful. There was a nagging though, as if the peace wouldn't last long. No kidding on that one.

Not a second had passed after the feeling started before a door slammed somewhere in the house and a little girl came rushing into the room with a bow slung across her back and an arrow quiver at her side. Dark brown hair flew in wild waves around her soft face, even as a set of very familiar blue eyes met Darcy's own. The little girl practically barreled into Darcy, jumping up into her lap and bouncing like an overly hyper bunny. "Mommy, mommy, guess what!"

Darcy felt herself smile, even as she removed the bow from the little girl's back and unhooked the arrow quiver at her side. "What's up squirt? You shoot well today?"

"Yep!" exclaimed the little girl as a pair of heavy footfalls made their way in the direction of the room where Darcy lay sprawled out. "I shot almost as good as Daddy today!"

"Really?" asked Darcy, eyebrows raising high, even as her eyes turned towards the man who was currently standing in the room's doorway.

Clint smiled, pride evident on his face. "Natasha's already claiming the girl will be the next Hawkeye when I'm too old to play superhero anymore."

Darcy laughed and hugged the little girl close. "Alright squirt, go put your equipment away."

"Yes mommy!" exclaimed the child, wiggling out of Darcy's arms and grabbing both the bow and the quiver to dart out of the room.

She barely dodged past Clint, and he barely dodged the tip of her bow as she ran passed. "Careful with your bow Molly!"

"Yes Daddy!" shouted back Molly, though it was pretty obvious that she wasn't paying any attention.

He shook his head and walked into the room, scooping up Darcy before taking her seat and setting her in his lap. "She is frighteningly good with that bow."

"Hmm," hummed Darcy happily. "She's gotta be to beat her dad."

Clint looked a little sheepish. "Well, I _may_ have held back a little..."

"I figured," assured Darcy with a grin as she leaned up to kiss him. "After all, if she'd beaten you I'm pretty sure Fury would be recruiting her already."

"Yeah," scowled Clint. "He probably would, sneaky bastard that he is."

She shook her head and pulled his own down suddenly, locking their lips together for a few moments as a distraction. When they finally pulled apart, Clint was giving her a look that said it was in their best interest to get to a bedroom. Fast. It made Darcy shiver.

"Why don't we forget about Fury for a little while?" she suggested, a bit breathless.

His mouth was on hers again as he picked her up and turned towards their bedroom. "As if the cyclops is ever on my mind when I have you in my arms. One-eyed men have nothing on my beautiful wife."

_Wife_, _I'm his wife_. The idea made her heart ache a little with a deep-rooted longing she couldn't begin to understand. She wanted to be his wife, wanted to have a claim on him. To be the only one who had that claim.

Apparently, her distraction was noted because suddenly, she wasn't pulled tightly against Clint's chest and there was a soft mattress beneath her. Most notably though was the fact that Clint was hovering over her rather than touching her. Which was upsetting in a way that wasn't actually _upsetting_. "Clint?"

Her voice drew his attention to her eyes, one of his hands coming up to cup her cheek. "Darce, are you okay? Today isn't one of the bad days, right?"

"Bad days?" questioned Darcy, unease filling her being. He wasn't supposed to know she _had_ bad days. Why did he know about those?

"Darcy..." His tone was filled with worry for her, and suddenly Darcy realized what was happening. Why this was happening.

Her own fingers came up to intertwine with his. "I'm fine Clint. Promise."

A smile broke across his lips, which were back on hers less than a minute later. "If you're sure."

"Positive," whispered Darcy in return, even as she led one of his hands down her body to rest against the slight swell of her stomach. "Everything is fine Clint. Perfect in fact."

His smile was soft but bright, even as the image began to shift and fade away.

* * *

><p>Darcy awoke slowly, aware of the soft weight of Clint's hand on her swollen belly. The place where their child rested, safe and sound. Their <em>daughter.<em> A smile broke across her lips and she must have made some noise because suddenly Clint was stirring behind her. One of his hands, which had been resting on her leg, slid up to cup the underside of her stomach, stroking at the soft skin just above her hips.

"Bad dream?" muttered Clint, face pressed against the back of her neck.

Darcy shook her head softly, tilting back until she could drop a kiss on his throat. "Nope, exact opposite."

"Good dream," confirmed Clint with a yawn.

"Wonderful dream," corrected Darcy as she rolled onto her back. "Hey Clint, how do you feel about having a daughter?"

He buried his face against the curve of her neck, yawning slightly. "A little girl sounds amazing."

Darcy chuckled and stroked his hair gently. "How about Molly for a name?"

"Perfect," whispered Clint, hand stroking over the swell of her stomach. "Why?"

"No reason," assured Darcy gently. "I was just thinking."

But she knew. Now, she knew what awaited them in the future. And it was as bright as any that Darcy could have hoped for.

* * *

><p><strong>No, this won't be the end of this little series of shorts, because I really want to write something fun where Loki is interacting with Molly. All sorts of chaos comes to mind for that.<strong>


	9. Prompt: Control

**Okay, I had someone specifically comment on the 'bad day' thing Darcy mentions in one of the previous chapters, so here it is. An explanation of what a 'bad day' is, by Darcy's standards. And Fury's.**

**Enjoy!**

**- Illusinia**

**Prompt: **Control

**From: **avengers-tables .livejournal **under 50-word prompt (yes, I do intent to use all 50 words)**

**Pairings: **Clint/Darcy

* * *

><p>Darcy knew it was going to be a <em>bad day<em> when she awoke that morning. But it wasn't until she opened her eyes that she realized how bad it was looking. She didn't have to think twice as she reached over to pick up her cellphone and dialed Jane. An excuse about a migraine would work. No thought when into the text she sent to Clint either, telling him she was sick and asking him to remain away that day.

With everyone contacted, she closed her eyes and rolled over. Hopefully more sleep would help. If not, she could always try to meditate. Days like this sucked. A faint pulse from the child in her womb told her the baby agreed.

* * *

><p>Clint knew he was distracted, it was hard not to be. Darcy had told him she was sick then asked him not to visit. Something like that? It was scary. He wanted to protect her, needed to protect her and their baby. But she wasn't letting him even take care of her when she wasn't feeling well.<p>

A energy blast to the back sent him flying and he suspected his clothes may have caught fire due to the heat. It was hard to say though, given how badly his head was spinning. People were shouting around him and he heard their simulation shut down (they had adapted Professor Xavior's Danger Room program to work for their own needs), but he found it hard to focus on the chaos. Then an arm was propping him up and Natasha was examining him for signs of damage.

"He doesn't appear seriously hurt," she reported calmly. "At least not yet. I suspect Darcy may have a good amount to say to him for his lack of attention."

"I certainly do," growled Fury from behind the group.

Steve, Tony, and Natasha all moved aside to allow Fury to pass, Loki following behind him curiously. It was strange to see the Mischief God following Fury, but Clint had watched Loki grow closer to Fury, Darcy, and Tony in the short amount of time that he had been working with the Avengers, even in his limited context. Clint suspected part of that had to do with the conversation Fury, Darcy, and Loki had the day after Darcy apparently lit him on fire. Fury confirmed it happened, even though no one else could see it save Loki.

The polished black boots Fury always seemed to wear stopped in front of Clint, the S.H.I.E.L.D director glaring down at him. "Hawkeye, care to explain what that was all about?"

"I was distracted sir," admitted Clint, bowing his head to look at Fury's shoes. Fury could always make you feel like a little kid being chastised for breaking a window with a baseball. "It won't happen again."

Fury sighed and knelt down in front of Clint, surprisingly sympathetic. "No, it won't. Not today. You're done until tomorrow, when Miss. Lewis is feeling better and you're not so worried."

Everyone was staring at Fury as if he'd grown another head, including Clint. Since when did the director of S.H.I.E.L.D give _anyone_ a break? It was so far out of character, Clint wondered if Loki hadn't done something to the vicious one-eyed man.

"Sir?" questioned Clint, uncertain if this was a test or if Fury was fucking with him somehow. It seemed like something the director might do.

Fury just shook his head and stood. "I understand how Miss. Lewis is feeling today. I've had a few of those days myself, and I'd imagine they're worse for her than they ever were for me."

"Indeed," confirmed Loki. "I popped in to check on her and she literally expelled me from the apartment with a rather strong show of force. The only way I was allowed to enter was if I masked my energy signature so it wasn't as strong."

"Wait, what's happening to Darcy?" asked Clint, clearly confused. "She just told Jane she had a migraine!"

Loki nodded. "As one might when unable to explain why they are feeling bad. I do not know the full extent of her ailment, but she did assure me that all would be well tomorrow. When questioned, she likened her current state to suffering from a second-degree sunburn, whatever that is."

"Its when the skin burns, becoming raw and painful," supplied Fury. "And that's pretty much an apt analogy."

"She also mentioned an inability to actively acknowledge physical barriers and objects," continued Loki, apparently considering what was said. "From what I gathered, she has become temporarily over-sensitized to energy and finds functioning difficult."

Fury nodded. "Its a loss of control. Happens to all of us sometimes."

"Control is vital when dealing with any magic," agreed Loki. "A single slip can have negative consequences for all involved."

Clint nodded slowly, the pieces falling together with the little he knew. "So Darcy's mind is placing too much emphasis on the part of her mind that processes the energy-related stuff and not enough on the senses that process the physical stuff?"

"Correct," confirmed Fury. "It's thrown her into an imbalanced state of mind and is limiting how well she can function."

"And me going near her..." started Clint.

"-Would cause her discomfort," finished Loki with a slight nod of his head. "Allow her the remainder of the day to recover. Come tonight, she should feel significantly better. Or, at the vary least, she should have regained her control."

Which was how Clint found himself just outside of the door to Darcy's apartment around 8 that night with a bag of food in hand and a prayer on his mind.

* * *

><p>A faint knock at the door drew Darcy from her meditation. It had taken most of the day, but she could finally see walls again with relative clarity, rather than having to reach out a hand to feel for them. It was hard to move around when your mind couldn't seem to process completely what your eyes were seeing. Thankfully, her control was back.<p>

From the other side of the door, she could feel Clint and his worry. Her sensitivity to other energy sources hadn't dissipated completely yet, but she figured her body could tolerate being around Clint, so long as he wasn't in too much of a cuddling mood. Then she'd probably get sick.

Her legs unfolded from beneath her body, allowing her to stand without using her hands. She wouldn't be able to do that for much longer, once her bump became more of a bulge but for the time being she'd enjoy the flexibility.

The door was hardly open before Clint was reaching for her. He stopped with his hand halfway out-stretched however, and gave her a questioning look. "Can I touch you, or will you get sick?"

Darcy smiled slightly at him, leaning on the door frame with a sigh. "Fury and Loki told you, I'll take it?"

Clint nodded sheepishly. "I might have been a little distracted."

Her eyes narrowed. "How distracted? Injured distracted?"

"Not badly," assured Clint quickly, but she was already pulling him inside and swiping the food from his hand to set it aside. Then she was stripping him of his shirt to examine his body for damage. He knew she found the large bruise on his back when the soft gasp left her mouth. "Its not as bad as it looks, I promise."

"Clint!" shouted Darcy angrily. "How could you allow yourself to be distracted? What if this had been a real fight? You could have been killed!"

He spun quickly, grasping her hands softly to get her attention. "If it had been a real fight, I promise nothing could have distracted me. _Nothing_. We train to help ensure we come back from every mission alive but I have more reasons than anyone else to come back alive." The finger tips of one hand brushed over her shirt. "You and the baby are the most important things in my life and my reason for coming back alive. I train to stay strong so I _can_ come back alive as well as keep you both safe. Never think that I would allow myself to be distracted in a real fight, especially if it might mean not coming back to you."

Her hand came to rest over the one who's tips were against her stomach, pressing his hand flat and interlinking her energy with his own so he could feel the soft pulse of their child. "As long as you always promise to try to come home."

"I promise," whispered Clint as he drew her close. "Now, how are you feeling?"

Darcy smiled softly and carefully hugged him. "Better, though I wouldn't suggest a lot of physical contact tonight. My body is still really screwed up from that whole mess with my energy today."

"Yeah, Fury mentioned that might be the case," whispered Clint as he lay a kiss on her forehead and released her. "Which, I might add, is kinda creepy. Especially because he was actually, well, _empathetic_ today. Did you and Loki swap him out with a new and improved Fury when we weren't looking?"

"Hardly," laughed Darcy as she swept up the food and headed for the table. "He just knows how unpleasant a day like today is and how stubborn you are."

"Huh?" asked Clint, not making the connection between the two.

Darcy sighed. "Basically, he knew that if he and Loki didn't explain what was happening, you'd come to me about it and I wasn't in any condition to explain it. Hell, I wasn't in any condition for any human contact. Too much risk of damage and all that. Plus, healing someone _after_ you've lit them on fire or turned them into a cowering pile of fear-riddled human flesh is a bitch."

"I'll keep that in mind," muttered Clint. "But you're okay?"

"Now? Yeah, I'm fine," assured Darcy. "Tired, hungry, and a little stir-crazy, but stable."

He nodded happily and pushed her into a chair at the table before heading into the kitchen for a plates, silverware, and everything else they'd need. "I have the solution for one of those. Now sit down and let me actually take care of you for a bit. You had me worried all day."

Darcy laughed softly and turned in the chair, careful to lay her hands across the back rather than missing it all together. Her ability to interact with the physical realm was still a little up in the air. "Geez, if you're like this on a day when I just suffer a little loss of control, what are you going to be like when I give birth?"

Clint stuck his head back out of the kitchen, eyes dead serious when he replied. "Honey, when you give birth I am going to be an absolute mess. Make no mistake, Natasha will be stripping me of all weapons and be armed with a sedative."

"Why a sedative?" asked Darcy curiously.

The serious look faded to more of a grin. "So if I pass out from the experience she can lie and say that she had to sedate me for the safety of the medical staff."

Darcy's laughter was music to his ears, reminding him that she was well and assuring him that, no matter what they faced, everything would be okay.


	10. Prompt: Conversation

**I'm too tired to write an amusing authors note on this one, so please accept a bag of puppy yawns instead. They're fresh, I promise. (Seriously, this was started on a day when I was loopy out of my mind and really probably still am so excuse any insanity).**

**- Illusinia**

**Prompt: **Conversation

**From: **avengers-tables .livejournal **under 50-word prompt (yes, I do intent to use all 50 words)**

**Pairings: **Clint/Darcy

* * *

><p><p>

Darcy wasn't looking forward to this. Really, if she could get around all this, she would. It felt like a formality that could end in a fight, and that was the last thing she wanted. They both knew her time with Jane was limited, so it wasn't like he could get too upset. Right?

As her thoughts raced, the man in question came strolling into the one bar in Puente Antiguo looking as confident as the first night she'd seen him. And as hot. Damn the man, why did he have to be so cut? And why did she have to leave? Hell, the sex alone was almost worth staying for. Almost.

His eyes scanned the room slowly, even as he moved towards her table. She'd pushed herself into a corner, much like the first night they'd met, with her back against the wall. It wasn't as creepy when people couldn't walk behind you.

"I still think you're lying about the military background," commented Clint as he slid into the chair partially across from her own. She knew he didn't like having his back exposed so the second chair was pushed against the other wall perpendicular to her own.

Darcy just rolled her eyes. "I swear I'm not, but whatever. Believe what you want."

One of his eyebrows rose but he didn't comment on her short rebuttal. Normally, the two of them would banter back and forth like old friends, mostly because they could and it was fun. Tonight though, Darcy just wanted to get this over with and go home to wallow in what was sure to be misery. Conversations like this never ended well.

"Something on your mind?" asked Clint casually as he flagged down a waitress and ordered a beer. Darcy ordered a shot of whiskey. As soon as the waitress was gone, Clint turned worried eyes on her. "Darcy, did something happen?" 

Her eyes fell to the coaster in front of her, fingers reaching out to fiddle with the small circle of cardboard. Apparently, she wasn't going to get her drink before they had this discussion. "We have a problem."

"Okay," replied Clint as he leaned back slowly, eyes searching her face for some hint of what was bothering her. "What's the problem?"

For several seconds, all she could do was open and close her mouth, mind uncertain how to break the news. Luckily, her patience was limited and it didn't take long for her to grow fed-up with all attempts at a gentle delivery. Rip off the bandage fast and all that. "I'm leaving."

"Okay," repeated Clint casually, eyes still searching her face for signs of something. "For how long?"

Darcy glanced up at him through her lashes, mentally trying to estimate how angry or hurt he'd be. It was impossible to say. The guy didn't exactly exude attachment or detachment in any great quantity. Well, unless they were in bed. Then there were certain things he was very attached to. Digressing. "Permanently. I'm leaving to go back to school. New semester and all that. Plus, my internship is done."

He leaned back casually, looking relaxed, but she could see the anxiety thrumming beneath his skin. His chair went up on two legs, in an attempt to look more comfortable. "So, what, we'll talk on the phone?"

Her eyes shot up to his, wide with surprise. "Wait, you want to keep talking to me?"

Clint blinked back at her like she was insane, the front legs dropping heavily against the wooden floor boards. "Yeah, why wouldn't I?"

For a moment, her mind ground to a halt. This man, this hot, sexy, and downright kick-ass guy, wanted to keep talking to her? Even though they'd be too far apart for the sexy type of fun?

She must have taken too long to respond because he started to back-pedal, body stiffening to reflect his unease. "If you don't want to keep talking, we don't have to."

"No!" exclaimed Darcy, attention drawn abruptly from the mental party dance her inner self was doing. At his raised eyebrow, she blushed and tried to formulate a comprehensive sentence. "I mean, I want to keep talking. With you. I just didn't think you'd _want_ to keep talking once sex was off the table."

For a moment, he looked beyond confused. Like she'd just given him a paradox and he wasn't sure how to process the information. Then, his eyes lit up and he leaned forward suddenly, one of his hands covering her own. The motion brought his face inches from hers. "Darcy, did you think this was just about the sex?"

"Uh, duh," replied Darcy, even as she blinked cluelessly at him. "Dude, you're cut. Seriously cut. And cute." Clint blushed a little at that, actually _blushed_. The man was cocky, so why was he blushing at a little compliment like that? It was clear just from watching him _walk_ that he knew exactly how handsome too.

"Plus you're well hung," continued Darcy, curious if she could make him blush harder. He did. "I mean, why would a guy like you even _consider_ someone like me except for the rockin' rack? You know, beyond the age difference issue, which can swing opinion either way."

He actually winced at the last bit. "Like I said, the age thing doesn't bother me if it doesn't bother you." Something that sounded suspiciously like 'even though I feel like a dirty old man' was muttered under his breath, making Darcy giggle. Apparently, that was the intention because he continued calmly, careful to keep his eyes locked with hers. "Besides that, you're amazing Darcy. Seriously amazing. Here you are, no background in astrophysics, or any hard science for that matter, dealing with gods falling off bridges and not batting an eye."

She snorted, but the smile still played at the corner of her lips. "I tazed Thor when we first met."

"And you're willing to taze a god," pointed out Clint. "An admirable trait if you live long enough afterwords to tell anyone."

_'He deserved it,_ added Darcy mentally as the waitress returned with their drinks. She quickly took the shot, allowing the liquid to burn her throat and warm her insides.

Across the table, Clint raised both eyebrows over his beer. "Damn drinking with you is both hot and emasculating." At her own cocked eyebrow, he elaborated. "You shoot shots like a pro."

"Dude, I'm an undergrad in poli sci," pointed out Darcy. "If I didn't know how to do shots, there would be issues."

He chuckled slightly. "Didn't realize there was a connection."

"Totally," insisted Darcy with a grin. "We have to get all the crazy out of our systems now, so when we run for office later our opposition can attempt to blackmail us. Then we blackmail them with their own college-age stunts."

"So, you do crazy things now to create a stalemate later?" asked Clint, clearly a little confused.

"Yep!" confirmed Darcy with a grin, before she dropped some money on the table and stood. "Now, I know you can chug that thing so do it. I'm only here for another week and want to get a lot of lovin' in between now and moving day."

Clint smirked and chugged his beer, setting the glass down heavily. He barely dropped his own money before Darcy was dragging him out the door. "Should I just call Coulson now and tell him I won't be in tomorrow because of exhaustion?"

The smirk she threw him almost drove him to push her against the nearest wall and kiss her silly. Then, she was pulling him close by the collar of his shirt and pressing their mouths together in a way that made his eyes cross. Seriously, he didn't want to know how she got so talented with her tongue. It could lead to a lot of dead bodies and him in jail. Or on Fury's shit list. Either one.

"It might be a good idea," advised Darcy when she finally pulled back. "I intend to wear you out tonight, and I know I'll be placing a call to Jane before we start."

Clint just growled against her throat and picked her up.

* * *

><p><p>

As predicted, neither of them were capable of actually dragging themselves out of bed the next morning. Thankfully, Jane didn't ask too many questions and Coulson just didn't care. Well, he did care but the suggestive language Clint used over the phone made Coulson _not care_. Or want to hear the word 'kitten' again. Ever.

* * *

><p><p>

**Good, bad, burn it all down? Seriously guys, I do like to get a little feedback here!**


	11. Prompt: Hospital

**Another one down. I tried to infuse more humor into this one than I have been. Let me know if it worked.**

**- Illusinia**

**Prompt: **hospital

**From: **avengers-tables .livejournal **under 50-word prompt (yes, I do intent to use all 50 words)**

**Pairings: **Clint/Darcy

* * *

><p>Missions could be one of the most tedious things to ever grace the face of the Earth. Especially when they went sideways. Such was the case with this one. Though the Avengers has emerged victorious, things hadn't gone as planned. Thankfully, Stark had a hard head and harder armor.<p>

Thus, when the Quinjet set down on the tarmac inside Avenger's Tower, Clint found himself more than a little anxious to get _off_ the plane. Namely so he could go climb into bed with a very pregnant Darcy. Being away right now, when she was so close to her due-date, was the hardest thing about being a superhero.

Stepping up to the entrance, his eyes swept the hanger and froze when they landed on Darcy. Beautiful, glowing Darcy. The mother of his child and most important woman in his life at the moment. Part of what kept him alive and going were thoughts of her, he could legitimately say that. In his pocket, a small pouch rested heavily against his leg.

Pepper and Jane were standing with her, watching anxiously as everyone deplaned. When Tony stepped out, Pepper practically ran forward to check him over. The dent in his helmet would probably worry her more than a little.

Similarly, Jane gasped and nearly tackled Thor when she realized he had a wound on his arm. One that was still bleeding. Because he'd refused medical treatment before they left. Not that medical treatment in the middle of small-town Kansas was going to be superb, but still...

Shaking his head, Clint just continued down towards Darcy, watching her as he went. She was standing there, one hand resting over her swollen stomach while the other reached out towards him. Thank God. It was her sign that he could touch her without fear. If both her hands were drawn in, he needed to wait but if she reached for him, everything was good. What neither one noticed was how carefully the others watched them. Darcy's pregnancy had everyone on edge, mostly due to how it had effected her powers. An out of control energy manipulator, as they'd all found out, was a very dangerous thing.

However, when his hand came to rest in hers, Clint found that he didn't care how dangerous Darcy was. Without fear, he pulled her flush against his body and tucked her head under his chin. One of her hands came up to grasp his and lay the palm directly against her stomach. Beneath his hand, the baby kicked happily. Standing there, with both of his women securely within reach, brought a peace that Clint rarely knew.

"Happy to be home?" asked Darcy quietly, the fingers of one hand stroking through his hair while the other continued to rest on his over their child.

"Always," murmured Clint with a soft smile. "What, you're not glad I'm back?"

Darcy snorted softly. "I'm _very_ glad you're back. Molly's been unbearable without her daddy around to sing her to sleep at night."

"Aw," whispered Clint as he rubbed soft circles along her skin, "did you miss Daddy, baby girl?"

A kick against his hand answered his question. There were chuckles from both parents before Darcy leaned up to kiss him softly. "You should go shower. Phosphorous sulfate isn't a good smell for you."

Clint hummed softly and buried his nose in her hair. "You should join me then, make sure to get it all off."

Darcy chuckled and shook her head. "No, I need to get over to Central Hospital. Go shower and I'll see you there."

The word 'hospital' had barely registered before Clint was drawing back sharply to look her over, eyes wide. For her part, Darcy looked the picture of calm, though she did wince a little and rub her stomach slightly. "Darcy, what's wrong? Why do you need a hospital?" It took a lot of effort not to panic.

She just shrugged. "I've been in labor for about three hours now and I just figured I should get over there eventually. Unfortunately, S.H.I.E.L.D hasn't built a maternity ward yet."

By now, the rest of the people in the hanger were staring at her slack-jawed and more than a little confused. Thor was the only one who didn't seem to be in any form of shock. He just looked really confused.

All Clint could do was make sputtering noises and stare at Darcy with 'deer-in-the-headlights' eyes. She just sighed and shook her head. "What? I wanted to wait until you were back and I figured if I went to the hospital before that, Fury would just call and say I was in the hospital which would freak you out."

The reasoning made sense in Darcy-world, but just made everyone else cringe. Jane was the first to recover, pulling out her keys with a sigh. "I'll get the car."

"Don't bother," muttered Tony, apparently less surprised than he probably should have been. His cellphone was already in hand and against his ear. "Hey, Happy? I need you to bring the car around now. We're taking Darcy to the hospital." There was a pause as Happy apparently asked something. "No, apparently she's been in labor for three hours. She wanted to wait for Clint to get back before she left." Something else was said by Happy that just made Tony shrug. "Eh, makes sense to me. See you in two." Then he hung up the phone and handed it back to Pepper. "Alright, let's move people."

* * *

><p>Less than thirty minutes later, Darcy was secured in the hospital maternity ward. Clint sat beside her, hair dripping wet and skin still damp from his very quick shower. Which Darcy had convinced the nurses to allow him to take at the hospital. Apparently, the nurses were a lot nicer when you were relaxed beyond all belief and enjoyed making jokes.<p>

Well, until the doctor asked how long she'd been having contractions. When the words 'three hours' left her mouth, a lot of hell broke loose. Apparently they weren't used to women knowingly ignoring their contractions.

Within two hours, Molly was born and a very exhausted Clint was stepping out into the hall with a huge smile pasted on his face. The others were still there, with Coulson, Fury, and Loki now in attendance. Apparently, the nurses had seen fit to give the group their own private waiting area, not that Clint could blame them. All of the Avengers were still in their battle gear with the exception of Tony who had changed back into his normal clothing. Pepper had apparently been a boy scout, because that was the only way Tony could have gotten the clothes he was wearing. Furthermore, Coulson looked uneasy, Fury was tense, and Loki appeared to be reading though a pile of medical journals on human pregnancy and birth. He'd become fascinated with the subject when Darcy started to show.

Everyone in the room looked up when Clint entered, Jane and Pepper scrambling to their feet with wide eyed curiosity. The rest of the room just seemed to be holding its collective breath.

"They're alright," assured Clint, his smile never fading. "Molly and Darcy are both back in the room if anyone wants to come see them.

The stampede to the door was only half unexpected. Most people won't wait around at a hospital for two hours unless they really want news and Clint knew pretty much every member of the Avengers considered Darcy family.

He followed the group into the room, where Jane, Pepper, and Natasha immediately bee-lined for the bed where Darcy currently lay with Molly tucked against her chest. The baby was wide awake and blinking uncertainly at the whole room. She didn't seem scared though, which Clint counted as a good thing. He didn't have any family and Darcy didn't talk to her own much. The people currently in the room, they would be Molly's family. Which was scary when he though about it.

"She's beautiful," whispered Jane, one finger reaching out to stroke the thin hair on Molly's head.

"Agreed," murmured Natasha from the other side of the bed, "she's going to be beautiful when she grows up."

Clint grinned and came to stand beside Darcy's head. "Just like her Mom, right Darce?"

"Damn straight," muttered Darcy as she shifted a little. Molly cooed slightly.

"Amazing," whispered Loki as he came to stand beside Clint. "Such a small being..."

Darcy grinned up at him and motioned for Loki to sit beside her. "Have you held a baby before?"

Loki nodded slowly. "Yes, several times in court. Why?"

She didn't respond, just thrust Molly in his direction. Loki jumped a little and took the baby into his arms as if she was made from spun glass. Clint was relieved about that.

For a moment, the trickster god couldn't find a word to say. His eyes were glued to the bundle in his arms, in shocked awe. Then she reached a hand towards him, little fingers making jerky movements as if she were reaching for something. His wide and confused eyes rose to Darcy, with laughed softly.

"Give her your finger," whispered Darcy. "She wants to say hello."

Loki did as he was told, sliding his finger against the tiny palm. Molly's fingers closed slightly against his own. Then he jumped a little, much to Darcy's amusement. "By the Allfather..."

"I told you she wanted to say hello," pointed out Darcy as Loki continued to stare at Molly in awe. "She can't talk right now, so she has to use other means of talking. That just happens to be the one she's picked up already, mostly because she was talking to me that way."

"Incredible," whispered Loki.

Fury came to stand behind the Norse God, eye glued to the child in his arms. "So her powers are already manifesting?"

"Dude, they were manifesting in my _womb_," snorted Darcy. "And its not really a surprise. Look at who her mom is."

Loki nodded slowly. "She will be as powerful as you, then?"

Darcy shrugged and reached for Molly again. Loki handed her over reluctantly, apparently enjoying his time with the child. "Hard to say, and don't worry Loki, you'll get a lot more time with her. Thor volunteered you for baby-sitting duty. Which is probably best sense you can actually see when someone's manipulating energy. However, you aren't allowed to teach her Norse as a first language. Second language or duel language, alright, but it can't be her first."

Clint snorted. "Yeah, we want to _understand_ what she's saying."

"Ah, but Darcy speaks Norse," pointed out Loki with a grin. "She is more than capable of understanding the language."

"No Loki," deflected both Clint and Darcy simultaneously.

Loki just laughed while Jane reached out to hold Molly next. The newborn spent the next half hour being passed around the room to everyone, including Coulson and Fury. By the end of it, Molly was cranky and Darcy informed them that she needed to feed the baby so they could either deal with it or get out. Everyone but Clint left pretty quickly at that, promising to be back later to visit.

As Jane and Thor, the last of the group, departed, Clint couldn't help but consider what kind of a family his daughter was going to have. Then he groaned when he realized _exactly_ what kind of a family his daughter would be surrounded by.

Well, who ever said fatherhood would be easy?

* * *

><p><strong>Poor Molly, she really doesn't have a snowballs chance at being normal. Oh well, growing up surrounded by superheros has to have <em>some<em> benefits. Also, I know the birth I described is unlikely, but it was more fun this way.  
><strong>


	12. Prompt: In the Past

**And, yet another prompt done. Yes, this one is extremely long by comparison to the others and I apologize for that. Anyway, hope you guys enjoy this.**

**Illusinia**

**Prompt: **in the past

**From: **avengers-tables .livejournal **under 50-word prompt (yes, I do intent to use all 50 words)**

**Pairings: **Clint/Darcy

* * *

><p>It was the shock that woke Clint. The strike of fictional pain across the back of his head that sent him shooting up in the bed panting. That and the battle he had just witnessed. Somewhere in his mind, he knew the whole thing was a dream but that didn't stop him from panicking.<p>

Beside him, Darcy stirred slightly, then opened her eyes and turned onto her back so she could look at him. Beneath the sheet, he could see the bump where their child rested. Six months pregnant, and Clint felt like Darcy grew more beautiful each day. Somehow, her presence soothed him and right now was no exception. One of his hands came to rest on her stomach, rubbing her bump. Beneath his hand, their child kicked restlessly as if to complain at being awoken by his dream.

"Clint?" Darcy's sleepy voice brought his attention back to her. "Is everything okay?"

He nodded and leaned over to press his face into her neck. "Yeah Darce, everything's fine. Just a bad dream."

She hummed softly and nodded. "Ah, one of those."

Softly, Clint shook his head. "I still don't get how it is you've never had a nightmare."

"I have, remember?" reminded Darcy. "Its dreams I don't have."

"Right," chuckled Clint. "Because you have to be an abnormality in every way."

She responded by smacking his shoulder. "Are you going to come back to sleep?"

For a moment he considered it, but the memory of those images that just awoke him flashed before his eyes. "Probably not. Its," he paused to glance at the clock, "almost 5:30 anyway." With a smile, he leaned down to drop a kiss on her forehead. "You should get some more sleep though."

Darcy nodded with a yawn and rolled over again. "Sounds like a plan."

Smiling, Clint ran a hand through her hair before he got up and padded towards the door, pulling on a pair of pants and a shirt as he went. Rules concerning clothing were pretty liberal at the Mansion given it was owned by Stark, but he still liked to maintain _some_ kind of decency. Plus, when he went without a shirt Natasha, Pepper, and Jane tended to stare without meaning to and it made him uneasy.

Walking downstairs, he was surprised to see the lights in the kitchen on so early. He was even more surprised to find the rest of the household awake. Even if they all looked like hell frozen over. Tony's head was down in his arms, Pepper soothingly stroking his back. Jane was curled against Thor, who looked as upset as she did. Loki was sitting at the counter, rubbing his eyes and looking pale like everyone else, which disturbed Clint more than his dream. Natasha was standing beside Steve, trying to look unaffected even though her own hands were shaking slightly. For his part, Steve was leaning back against the counter with one hand stroking over her back softly. For a moment, Clint wondered if Dr. Banner had been woken as well, but he realized that even if the man was awake, the reinforced room that he slept in would contain his hulked-out form.

He paused in the doorway, examining everyone calmly. "You know, most people have parties during decent hours."

Tony looked up, a weariness painted across his fact that Clint had only seen after a particularly harrowing fight. "The 'Nightmare Club' meets every morning at an ungodly hour. Didn't you get the club memo? Its for everyone who _has_ nightmares."

"So, everyone in the house but Darcy is welcome?" asked Clint as he came to lean against the counter.

Pepper, who was standing beside Tony and looking just a shaken, groaned. "Is it wrong that I envy her right now?"

Clint shrugged. "Not really, I do."

"How is she doing?" asked Jane, slight concern vibrating through her body. "No nightmares herself?"

"If she had one, it wasn't enough to keep her awake," replied Clint with a shrug. "She rolled over and went back to sleep. Well, she's trying to. We'll see if the baby _lets_ her get back to sleep."

The strain on Pepper's face eased a little at the mention of the anticipated new member to their strange household. "Did the baby wake up too?"

"Or was already awake," confirmed Clint with a sigh. "Though I think I woke them both. When I laid my hand on her stomach, the baby kicked me."

"Awe!" cooed Pepper and Jane.

Even Natasha looked interested. "She kicked?"

Clint felt the grin crossing his face. Somehow, it never got old, the feeling he got when thinking about his little child. "Yeah, the baby's been kicking for awhile. And we don't know the sex yet Tasha, so what makes you think its a girl?"

Natasha shrugged. "Call it female instinct."

Sighing, he grabbed a cup and poured some of the coffee in the machine. "Figures."

Thor chuckled slightly. "Listen well to her Clinton. Women know these things far better than us men."

"Hey, she has a fifty percent chance of being right so it could just be a lucky guess too." Darcy's voice echoed from the doorway.

Turning, Clint smiled softly at the dark-haired woman. "Hey Darce, couldn't get back to sleep?"

Darcy shook her head. "You're kid doesn't want to stop doing cartwheels. They're going to be as agile as you are Mr. Gymnastics."

"The baby's moving?" asked Steve, perking up at the sight of Darcy. "Could I, uh, well, would you let me, I mean, er-"

Darcy shook her head as she grabbed Steve's hand and pressed it against her swollen belly. For a second, the super-soldier looked like he was going to blush but Clint guessed the baby chose that moment to kick because his face fell to the wide-eyed look of amazement that Clint was pretty sure he wore every time he saw Darcy. "You don't have to ask Cap, just give me a heads up. I really don't care so long as I know the person wanting to feel the baby."

Smile still plastered on his face, Clint pulled out the small coffee maker Stark had bought for Darcy to make decaf coffee in. As the beans began to brew, Darcy let out a content sigh and moved to sit at the counter beside Loki. The Mischief God gave her a strained smile.

"So, what's everyone doing up anyway?" asked Darcy as she stroked a hand unconsciously over her belly.

"Meeting of the Nightmare Club," replied Tony. "Sorry you weren't invited, but its really only for people who have nightmares."

Darcy just shrugged, then looked around the kitchen with a furrowed brow. "Did _all_ of you have nightmares?"

"Yeah," replied Pepper with a sigh. "It must have been a bad night for sleeping."

Brow still furrowed, Darcy turned towards Clint. "What was your nightmare about?"

Clint shuttered a little at the memory. "Darce..."

"Clint, this is important," cut in Darcy. Everyone was looking at her now, but her eyes were focused on him. "I need to know what your nightmare was about."

He looked at her for a moment but sighed and gave in. Bringing over her coffee, Clint leaned against the counter beside her. "It was weird, my nightmares usually have some tie to reality. But this one, this one didn't relate to anything I've done before.

"It started in this village. An old village. Firewood and drawing water old. The houses and buildings were all flat stone and the roofs were thatched with straw or hay or something like that. Anyway, it started in this old village and everyone was just wondering around like it was a normal day. Then, the horns started up. Suddenly, everyone stopped what they were doing and started running towards where I was except some men who were pulling on armor and grabbing weapons. They started running towards the noise.

"Except suddenly these guys were flooding the village on horseback and foot with circular shields carrying swords, spears, you name it. All kinds of weapons. It was like something out of the medieval era.

"These men just descended on the town and the people defending it. I remember I started running towards the attackers, a spear in hand. My eyes kept darting to this one archer, watching him with fear for some reason. But, instead of joining the attack, I started rushing people out of the town, helping them escape with some women dressed in armor and similarly armed. Some of the men fell back to help us too. That archer was one of them. The village was burning by that point, everything that could. And the men on horseback were charging through, killing people or grabbing them. Women, children, it didn't matter. I remember the last of the people were almost out of the town but there were some that were still being threatened. I saw this one mother with her child clutched against her chest being chased and just reacted. Suddenly I was driving my spear into the mans chest between the plates of his armor and throwing him from his horse. Then I was fighting and the attackers were dieing. And then something hit me on the back of the head and I just, fell. That's about when I woke up."

Darcy reached out to take Clint's hand in support, silent. Loki was rubbing his eyes with one hand, looking upset and across the counter, Thor was looking at the ground uneasily. Everyone else was just looking at him strangely.

"That's the same dream I had," commented Jane uneasily. "Exactly the same."

"Me too," muttered Tony. "How the hell is that possible?"

Darcy sighed unhappily. "That's my fault."

Everyone looked at Darcy, most with raised or furrowed brows. Loki was staring at her with wide eyes and Thor's own looked just as horror stricken.

"By Odin," muttered Loki. "That was _your_ memory."

"Yeah," confirmed Darcy, shifting uneasily. "I see it sometimes when I'm asleep. I didn't realize that I could project it like that though. Sorry guys, I'll try to make sure that doesn't happen again."

"Memory," whispered Jane, who looked shaky again. "T-that was a memory?"

Darcy nodded. "From about 900 or so years ago. For some reason, I can remember pieces of my previous lives. That particular memory is one of a set from that life."

"There's more?" asked Steve uneasily.

She nodded.

"So what happened?" asked Tony, wide-eyed with curiosity. "Seriously, the whole thing just blacked out right there."

"Yeah, getting struck in the back of the head will do that," grumbled Darcy, one hand coming up to subconsciously rub at her head.

Natasha leaned forward curiously. "But you survived."

"Mhm," confirmed Darcy as she stood to put her coffee cup in the sink.

Clint leaned forward as well, brows furrowed. "So what happened next?"

For a moment, Darcy was silent, though she glanced at both Thor and Loki. Thor, for his part, looked more than a little horrified about something and Loki was scowling at his brother. "I don't think that's an appropriate story to tell."

Both of Stark's eyebrows went up. "Now we know the story's good. Spill."

"Why wouldn't it be a good idea?" asked Steve. "Its just a story, right? Its not like it involves anyone here. Well, besides you."

Darcy pressed her lips together and shook her head. "No. Its a bad idea."

Clint took one of her hands carefully. "Darcy?"

"You may tell them if you wish Lady Darcy," offered Thor suddenly. Everyone turned to look at him. He gulped uneasily but continued none the less. "I have learned my errors since that time. What I did then, I am not proud of it and I know now that it was wrong."

"It wasn't wrong Thor," corrected Darcy. "Back then? That was pretty standard. Hell, I'm _lucky_ things went down like they did. If anyone else had taken me, well, things would have gone very differently."

Beside her, Clint stiffened and glared at Thor. "'If anyone else had taken me'? What the hell does that mean?"

"Clint," started Darcy, but Loki cut her off.

"I will tell the story," offered Loki with a scowl. "If Darcy will not."

Darcy looked wide-eyed at Loki, but slumped less than a moment later. She understood his message. "Alright, I'll tell it. But," carefully, she met each person in the room's eyes, "keep in mind that this whole thing happened a long time ago and different things were expected of warriors. What happened then isn't a reflection on anyone now. Got it?"

Slowly, heads around the room started to nod until everyone agreed.

"Good," sighed Darcy. "One thing you all have to understand before I start telling this story is that warriors were expected to take trophies back then. Sometimes that meant objects, sometimes it was prisoners. A warrior who didn't was considered a failure."

Loki scowled some. "The taking of slaves always seemed barbaric to me."

"Which is why things happened the way they did," reminded Darcy gently. One of her hands came to rest on Loki's. "Otherwise you probably wouldn't have stood up for me."

Thor shook his head. "No, Loki would have spoken for you regardless. In our world, when one owes a debt of life to another, it is a serious matter. One that is always honored in whatever way is possible." A slight smirk spread over Thor's face. "Of course, that my brother was smitten with you did not hurt matters."

"Thor," groaned Loki as he dropped his head onto his arms.

Darcy chuckled slightly and rubbed his back. Beside her, Clint wrapped an arm carefully around her waist. She didn't respond except to take his hand and squeeze it gently. "Anyway, just keep in mind that practices like that were common. So, you all saw what happened up until Thor knocked me out-"

"_Thor_ knocked you out?" exclaimed Jane.

"Duh," sighed Darcy. "I was kinda fighting _against_ him. Its not that surprising. Anyway. After Thor knocked me out..."

* * *

><p><em>She groaned softly, head pounding out a beat which could match any war drum in existence. Beneath her, soft fur was spread, but the area underneath was hard a stone. The class of materials made no sense to her confused brain for a moment, but the scent of stone and metal filled her senses. So she was in a prison cell. It was the only space she could think of that smelled as this one did.<em>

_Slowly, her head rose and she blinked blurry vision into focus. Around her, walls, ceiling, and floor of smooth stone filled her sight except where a heavy wooden door latched with metal stood. But, the space was clean. Far too clean for a prison cell. Yet, she lay in a prison cell none the less._

_Reaching down, she ran a hand over her body, ensuring none of her clothing was displaced or missing. Aside from her weapons, all articles were accounted for. At least that was something. Far worse things could have happened. One hand traced down her body and stroked over her torso carefully. Her hand came into contact with the area where her muscles were gradually softening. Hopefully where ever she was, escape was possible. If not, death would be her path._

_Outside the door, a voice boomed down the hallway, one she recognized all too well. It was the voice of one of the attackers. Distinct and loud, the sound had risen above the battle field like a harsh cry. So she had been taken prisoner. Odd that any man would take a woman in armor prisoner, but stranger things had happened._

_As his voice and foot-steps grew closer, she stood and drew herself to full height. Whatever abuse they had come to reign upon her, she would fight them every step of the way. Battle was the way of her kind, and she would not give up no matter what they threatened. Death was better than slavery._

_The door to her cell was thrown open with a flourish and three armored men stepped into the cell, followed by the man with the booming voice. She would recognize his posture anywhere. Three other men stood behind him, two of whom she recognized as other warriors from the same battle. However, instead of advancing upon her, her captor grinned._

"_The Midgardian warrior woman is awake! Excellent!" exclaimed the man. "Do you not believe she will make a fine gift to Lady Sif?"_

_One of the men, a dower looking man with dark hair, examined her with a critical eye. "She is strong willed and of great prowess with a weapon. Never will her spirit allow her to be made into a servant Thor."_

"_I agree," spoke up a short, heavy-set man with a long beard. "She will never be broken Thor."_

_Her captor, the man they called Thor, snorted derisively. "Hardly. She is a mortal woman. Surely she will bow before us as all Midgardians do."_

"_Never," her voice spit the words as if they were acid. "You are not one of my gods, not the Goddess I am a priestess of. I will never bow before you."_

_All four men froze, the three behind Thor looking horrified. _

_Thor just looked livid. "You would dare speak to me in such a way, mortal! I could have your head for your words."_

"_Then do so," she shot back without fear. "Death is a better fate than being bound to slavery!"_

_For a moment, Thor raised his hand as if he would strike her, but the third man behind him, a blond man, grasped Thor's arm. "Thor, we must take her before your father. You know the rules concerning prisoners."_

"_Aie," insisted the heavy-set man. "Leave her be, Thor. Odin will know what to do."_

_The blond man released Thor, who swept from the room, calling over his shoulder to the guards. "Bring her to the throne room. Immediately!"_

_While the blond and heavy-set men left the room to follow the man named Thor, the dark-haired one remained behind. He halted the guards as they reached for her, but his eyes never left her own. "Will you come willingly?"_

_She blinked at him, eyes searching his face for any signs that this was a trick. All she saw was the honor of a warrior and his respect for a fellow warrior. "So long as I am not harassed or assaulted. I reserve the right to defend myself should the need arise."_

"_No harm will come to you," assured the dark-haired man. Then, much to her surprise, he bowed. "As an extension of peace, allow me to offer my name. I am Hogun."_

"_The name given when I ascended the priestess-hood was Fionuir," she explained, bowing to Hogun in return. Mutual respect. "It is as much my name as any other I could give."_

_Hogun nodded, smiled faintly. "It is as much of a name as I could ask for. Please, walk with me."_

_One of her eyebrows rose, even as she stepped from the cell to stand beside him. "With you?"_

"_Yes," confirmed Hogun. "I do not agree with Thor taking you as a prisoner. You fought bravely to save those you care for from harm. Such actions deserve respect."_

_Her head shook slightly, back and forth. "We are trained to fight until the end. Taught that death is better than captivity. It is our way. Help others and defeat your enemy or die trying."_

"_A good code to live by," confirmed Hogun as he motioned down the hall. His steps were long, but she easily kept pace. "Your people are warriors."_

_The floor on which they walked was smooth and polished, much as the walls were. Ornate. So different from home. Foreign in a way she did not wish to contemplate. Especially with the names which had been spoken that day. Distraction, she required one if she didn't wish for panic to set in. Focus on the man and his words. "My people were not warriors. We were fishers, farmers, and tenders of livestock. We survived on the land, and allowed it to lead our lives. Very few of us knew how to fight, which is why I learned the art of battle."_

_Hogun nodded. "An honorable reason."_

_Silence descended between them as they walked. All that should be said had been. As they rose through the passages, the surrounding area became more ornate and foreign until she felt there was more than enough evidence to confirm her worst fears. Their attackers had been Vikings, she had known this from the start. Further more, she knew of their gods. The names of those who were worshiped in the villages across the sea. Gods such as Thor, Loki, and Odin. She also knew the stories of their world, an ornate and golden world that sat in the heavens. If it was true that she was a prisoner on the world of their gods, a knife would be her fate._

"_Warrior Hogun, may I ask a question?" Her query was met with a nod, a motion to continue. "Where are we?"_

"_Asgard, home of our people," replied Hogun. "Well, I suppose it is my people."_

_Her eyes dropped to the ground and she felt all hope of escape fade away. "I see."_

_Their journey continued in silence until at last they stood before a pair of massive doors, gilded with gold and polished smooth. Those doors were pulled open before either individual had actually reached the doorway._

_Beyond the doors lay a massive chamber focused around a tall, stepped dais. An ornate chair stood at the top. A throne. Tables were scattered around the room and the high ceiling above caused all who spoke to echo within the space. Numerous people filled the hall, chattering about one thing or another. All were wrapped in silken garments, embroidered with gems and golden thread alike. For less than a second, she felt under-dressed in her armor and heavy, rough-spun clothing meant for function rather than appearance. Those same thoughts were forgotten as quickly as they came._

_Neither her nor Hogun had taken a step into the hall that all eyes were turned upon her and her guard. He said nothing, simply motioned for her to step forward, which she did with all the pride that her position and abilities lent to her. She was a warrior, and had been taken by an enemy she would not bow before._

_Hogun's heavy footfalls echoed behind her own soft ones as they proceeded towards the throne where an older man with only one eye sat, perched on the throne with the dignity of a ruler. Whispers started as she walked by the gathered audience. Members of the court no doubt. It was only when she stood before the one-eyed man whom she believed to be Odin that those whispers fell silent. The whole hall barely breathed._

_For a moment, the man on the throne did little but look at her, eyes tracing over her form and armor. She stood tall, refusing to show any signs of self-consciousness. It was only when his eyes met her own that she realized his actions had been a test. _

_With the agility of a seasoned warrior, the man stood and descended the steps before his throne to stand before her. "I am Odin Allfather. Speak your name."_

"_Priestess Fionuir," she offered, though she did not bow or cower. The whispers started again, but a hand from Odin silenced those voices._

_Again, he examined her visually. "You show me no respect I see."_

"_I have no respect for murders, rapists, or selfish men who seek to conquer simply because they can," she replied. "It is for those exact reasons that I came to be here, by the hand of your own son. Showing respect where respect is not felt is a falsehood, something which I am bound not to speak."_

_For a moment, Odin narrowed his eye at her but seemed to accept her answer none the less. A cry of outrage came from behind the one-eyed ruler, but it was ignored. "You are brave to speak such words."_

_She shook her head. "I do not wish to be a slave, a fate which I have already been assigned. Death is preferable to such, and is a fate I do not fear. Thus, I feel no need to pacify another, simply because death could be the punishment for not doing so."_

_Odin nodded. "You know of the reason you were brought here then."_

"_As a gift," the words were spat, "for a woman named Sif."_

_Again, a nod from the Allfather. "This is the story my son has told me as well. Thor." Behind the one-eyed man, her captor from earlier appeared. "You intend to present this woman to Lady Sif, correct?"_

"_Aie father," confirmed Thor, eyes gleaming with threat. "Though it appears she will need to be properly broken first."_

_For the first time since her arrival, a scowl broke across her face. "Do your worst. I have nothing to fear from you. Your knives can cut and your hands can break, but there is nothing in this world that I have to live for and thus have no concern for such torment."_

"_Would you fight for your freedom then?" The voice which spoke was smooth, calm and reassuring. The man named Thor raised his eyes towards that voice, as did Odin. She did not turn or remove her eyes from those before her. Instead, she reached out towards the man with her other sight, the more powerful one than her eyes. What she felt was impossible._

"_Well?" the voice was closer now as the man finally stepped into view, examining her with the careless eye she had expected from this man. He was thin, not built as the others within the room were though she did not believe that made him any less of a threat. His hair was slicked away from his face, black and gleaming the light tossed from the scattered fires within the room. Green eyes which resembled jewels in their color met her own._

_There was no hesitation in her voice. "I would prefer to fight for my freedom. Death is preferable to slavery."_

_The man nodded and turned towards Odin carefully. "This seems fair, does it not?"_

"_I do not follow you brother," growled Thor uneasily. "She is my captive, I may do with her as I please."_

_The pale man nodded. "Of course you may Thor, do not misunderstand me. However, if I understand the story correct, she is only in your possession because you struck her over the head. An unfair tactic in battle if I recall. Your words, not mine."_

_Thor sputtered a bit and looked to Odin who was looking back at his son with eyes that conveyed his displeasure at hearing how she had come to be a captive. That same eye then returned to his other son. "What do you propose, Loki?"_

_The black-haired man, Loki, smiled faintly. "A fight for her freedom. Allow her and Thor to enter into combat. If she can disarm or disable him, grant her the freedom she might rightfully deserve. However, if Thor is able to disarm or disable her, clearly she does not deserve freedom." His eyes fell to her again. "Do these terms suit you?"_

_It was a tricky proposition. She knew there was a chance that she might loose to Thor, but that threat was worth it. Otherwise, her fate was sealed. "I agree."_

_Loki grinned. "Very well, father? I would ask Thor but his answer is already known."_

"_You cannot know such a thing, brother!" exclaimed Thor angrily._

_The other man scoffed. "Please Thor, you would rather not risk loosing your new toy if you can avoid it. Hence my asking Father rather than you what should be done."_

_All eyes fell to Odin then, waiting on his answer. He merely nodded. "Loki's proposal is a fair one. Rendering an individual unconscious by striking them in the back of the head with the intention of taking them as a prisoner is unbefitting behavior for a warrior. A rematch will be held."_

"_Excellent," confirmed Loki as he spun to face her. "Fionuir, was it?" She nodded. "Right then, lets get you fed, bandaged, and find a weapon for your use."_

_Thor looked as if he wanted to object, but a hand motion from Odin halted the mans tongue. "I am placing her in your care Loki."_

"_Of course Father," assured Loki as he led her from the room. It was only when they were out of the hall, behind the closed doors of another chamber, that Loki spoke again. "I'm sorry for all of this Fi."_

_Her eyes examined him calmly, even as he placed a plate of fruit, meat, and bread before her on a table. "You are the man from the woods."_

"_The one you saved," confirmed Loki. "And I swear, my presence in your village had nothing to do with the attack. Unfortunately, this is all a horrible coincidence."_

_She nodded quietly, picking up a piece of fruit and biting carefully into it. "None the less, I must thank you for standing up for me today, though I do not know why. I am a prisoner of your people, regardless of how I was brought here. Correct?"_

"_No," replied Loki with a shake of his head. "Father long ago spoke against the taking of prisoners if they were not taken in a fair fight. Women notably and the conductors of religious ceremony especially."_

"_I see." Her eyes were glued to the plate before her, uncertain what to think. This man had sat before her on many occasions, partaking of a meal with her and the archer Cumhai. Cumhai, she hoped he lived. Without thought, her hand came to rest against her lower belly._

_From across the table, Loki watched the motion and swore. "You are with child."_

"_Yes," she sighed, looking up at him with the same calm eyes he had looked into when injured. "By almost two months."_

_Again, he swore. "I should have noticed." In that instant, he was on his feet and pacing again. "I will have to speak to father, cancel this whole mess. There is no way I can allow you to enter into battle knowing you carry Cumhai's child."_

_One of her hands came to rest on his arm as he passed, drawing his attention to her. "Lopt, I must do this. Freedom is not attainable otherwise and I would take my own life before allowing my child to be born into slavery."_

_Loki sighed heavily. "It _is_ Cumhai's child, correct?"_

"_Yes."_

_He chuckled slightly and retook his seat. "Then I feel the need to inform you that the child would never have remained in slavery. I would have taken the child before allowing such a thing and even if I could not, the child will be a skilled warrior which would have allow them to win their freedom."_

_Her eyes rose to his, wide with surprise. "You would do such a thing?"_

"_Would have," corrected Loki. "I do not foresee you loosing this particular battle."_

_She refocused on the food before her, picking at the bread. "You sound so confident in my abilities."_

"_There is something about you that I have been unable to place but can recognize as a form of power," explained Loki. "You are strong and wise, as skilled with a spear as with a pestle. Somehow, I feel you will win regardless of what you believe."_

_Sighing, she finally bit into the bread and chewed, considering his words as she did so. Swallowing, she feel the need to point one thing out. "You cannot know any of this."_

_Loki smiled gently. "No, I cannot _know_ per say, but it feels like the truth none the less."_

_Returning his smile with one of her own, she nodded. "Did your brother take my weapon from the field or will I need to handle an unfamiliar one?"_

* * *

><p>"You can't stop there!" exclaimed Tony as Darcy paused from her long-winded explanation.<p>

One of her eyebrows rose in response. "Uh, what?"

Steve coughed uneasily. "Um, I think Tony means that he doesn't _want _you to stop. Telling the story that is."

"I'm not," replied Darcy with a slight grin. "I'm just grabbing some water." Her eyes slid to Tony, then across every face in the room. Short of Loki and Thor, everyone appeared riveted. Loki looked supportive, if not a little pissed, and Thor looked like a child being lectured. For a moment, her heart went out to him. Then she remembered the crap he'd pulled that had gotten her _into _that mess to begin with. "Well, I promise, I'll continue. Just give me a minute."

"Good," muttered Tony. "Cause I wanna know if you got free."

Clint nodded. "And I need to know if I need to kick Thor's ass or not."

"As if you could," muttered Thor, but Darcy shot him a look that had him sulking again.

"Easy there boys," soothed Darcy. "Remember, this shit happened a long ass time ago and doesn't relate to anything here and now." Raising her glass, she took several gulps and sighed happily. "Now, lets see if I can finish this story before Clint's acrobatic kid decides to sit on my bladder again. So, as I was saying..."

* * *

><p><em>The hall was loud with the clatter of spectators. Men and women alike crowded about to watch the bloodshed that they felt was sure to take place, or at least watch as a slave and woman who had chosen to so blatantly insult their king was turned to her place. Her eyes moved over all as they stared on at her. <em>

_Of course, she was aware of her appearance, had seen it before stepping into the training room. Scraggly hair hanging about, deep blue eyes rimmed with dark circles from a lack of true rest. Her body was far smaller than Thor's, arms thinner and frame shorter. What could not be seen though was the magic inside her that had allowed her to obtain priestess-hood. The power that thrummed through her veins and sang with the echo of power which vibrated throughout this place. _

_Both of her hands gripped the spear which Loki had presented her with just outside the battle room. Her armor had been returned as well, worn though it was. Loki had offered new armor, nearly begged her to take something other than the beaten leather she wore. But there was more to the strips of leather than met the eye, which was exactly why she needed her armor specifically. It was bad enough the weapon she held was foreign to her..._

_Applause and shouts filled the room as Thor strode into the room, waving about his hands and his hammer. Marks of the victor and a show of arrogance that allowed her to see, just for a moment, why Loki had encouraged this fight. His brother needed to be taught a lesson in humility. Too bad she wasn't certain in her abilities to teach that specific lesson._

_Behind Thor, Odin entered as well with two women beside him. One was a blond woman, older, who's hand he held with reverence. His wife most likely. The other was a dark-haired female, the only dark-haired female that she had seen since arriving. This second woman was wrapped in a beautiful gown of red and would have looked like a perfect woman were it not for the sword which hung at her side. Thor greeted this second woman with a bow._

"_Lady Sif, my friend," spoke Thor as he took the dark-haired woman's hand. Silently, she watched as Sif raised her eyes momentarily to glance at Loki._

_Beside her, she felt Loki shift as he caught Sif's eyes as well. It was hard to keep the smile from her face. "Ah, so this is not solely because I saved you then."_

_Loki glanced her way with a raised eyebrow. "How do you mean Fi?"_

"_You are enchanted by this Sif as much as your brother."_

_He chuckled. "Correct except in one regard: Sif has already made her choice. She simply has not voiced it yet."_

"_I see." Sif was eying her strangely, as if she did not appreciate Loki's apparent attention towards another female. "She doesn't seem to care much for me."_

_Loki shrugged faintly. "I may have mentioned you a few times. Apparently doing so equates to admitting attraction."_

_One of her own eyebrows rose much as Loki's had. "You have odd traditions then."_

"_Indeed," muttered Loki just as Odin raised his hand for silence._

"_My fellow Aesir," began Odin, "we stand now in this room to observe a battle staked upon an injustice done on the battlefield. The terms are as follows: should Priestess Fionuir disarm or disable my son, she shale be granted her freedom! However, should Thor do the same to her, then she will remain his slave to do with as he pleases. These are the terms, are there any objections?"_

_Loki shifted uneasily but a glare from her halted his movements. When a moment had passed without a single individual voicing an issue, the Allfather motioned for both her and Thor to step into the middle of the floor. Thor did so with the flourish of a man certain of his victory. Her own steps were sound, though without the assured nature of Thor's._

_Odin glanced between both of them before stepping back and dropping his hand in the space between them. "Begin!"_

_Thor did not wait for a second before he attacked, moving so rapidly forward she barely had time to shift and dodge. His hammer struck the ground where she had been seconds before. Speed would be one of his advantages, but she had fought faster. It was the strength he wielded which would prove the true test. With a growl of rage, he pulled his hammer from the ground and charged at her again, except this time she was ready._

_Spear held forward, she took a stance that was as deceptive as it was accurate. Spear extended outwards, it appeared that one would attempt to skewer their opponent on the end. Which was a way to handle such things, but not the one she took. However, Thor would be forced to deal with the spear head before he could get to her, which would put him in a position she wanted._

_As predicted, he swung at the end of her spear, sending it pointing away. Without hesitation she released the weapon and rolled forward, dropping to the ground in a motion that had her under and behind Thor in a matter of seconds. Before he could turn, one of her hands touched the back of his neck. A scream of agony flew from his mouth and the giant of a man fell to his knees. And in that second, the battle was over. She had won._

_Cries of outrage and anger rose from the crowd. Voices denouncing her victory and the way she had obtained it. Still, when she raised her eyes from the twitching blond man on the ground, Odin looked pleased and Sif had allowed both eyebrows to climb nearly into her hair._

_Without any fanfare, Odin rose and waved his hand to indicate an end to the fight. "Victor: Fionuir!"_

_An angry sort of sound seemed to come from Thor, but it was hard to say. He still lay twitching on the ground. Loki pulled her into a hug, showing his support in a way she hadn't intended._

"_Brilliant Fi, simply brilliant," muttered Loki as he pulled away. "You have done something no other has."_

_A faint smile crossed her lips as one of her hands came to rest on her stomach. "I had something to attempt to fight for."_

_Loki nodded and turned to Odin. "Her victory was clear Father. Thus, I ask permission to return Priestess Fionuir to Midgard."_

"_Permission granted," agreed Odin with a wave of his hand._

_Grinning, Loki motioned for Sif to come as well and led both women towards the Bifrost._

* * *

><p>"...and that's what happened," sighed Darcy before she gulped down another glass of water.<p>

Jaws were definitely hanging around the room, save Thor and Loki of course. Loki appeared to be lost in memory, probably recalling some meeting with Sif that no one was supposed to know about, and Thor looked more than a little ashamed. Jane wouldn't even look at him.

"I can't believe this," muttered Jane as she shook her head angrily. "Thor, how could you! Taking a pregnant woman as a slave! Taking _any_ woman as a slave!" The ranting continued from there, but Darcy ignored it in favor a leaning over to speak with Loki.

"You know, it's probably a good thing I didn't mention the part about how I was pretty damn sure Thor would have considered raping me had he won," muttered Darcy to Loki.

Loki snorted. "Considered?"

The two exchanged glances and shook their heads in unison.

"I'm so glad those days are gone," sighed Darcy.

"As am I," agreed Loki. "Some things were appealing though."

"Being close to nature," agreed Darcy.

"The fine craftsmanship of jewelery and weapons," pointed out Loki.

"The simple nature of life."

"The simplicity of society."

"Horseback riding."

"Magic."

"You know, I think this wins 'weirdest conversation of the year'," commented Tony as he looked between the Norse God of Mischief and the very pregnant mortal girl of many lives.

Both Darcy and Loki looked at Tony, then shook their heads. Simultaneously. Though he'd never admit it, even Clint was freaked out. And he _lived_ with Darcy.

"No where near weirdest conversation," assured Darcy.

Loki nodded. "There was a stranger one, though again it was a conversation between myself and Darcy."

Darcy made a bit of a 'eh' sound but nodded none the less. "Yeah, the weirdest conversation was probably the one about phrases."

"And their origin," agreed Loki. "As well as the one about Norse Mythology on your planet."

"I still think the bit where they compared Baldu with Jesus and thus demonized you is just messed up," pointed out Darcy.

Loki nodded. "You and my immortal daughter alike. Though our discussion about multiple dimensions was rather entertaining as well."

Tony's eyes jumped between the two, attempting to follow their conversation but eventually giving up. Instead, he opted to go drag Pepper back to bed. Steve left as well, deciding that the conversation between Jane and Thor didn't need to be over-heard by others. A particularly nasty snippet of conversation from Jane flew through the room in a not-so-quiet manner, catching Darcy and Loki's attention. Both turned back towards the astrophysicist who appeared to be verbally beating up the God of Thunder.

"Should we intervene?" asked Darcy uncertainly.

"No," replied Loki calmly. "Let Thor handle this on his own. He needs to be capable of admitting to his past mistakes, otherwise their relationship will not hold true."

Darcy nodded and slid from her stool, grabbing Clint's hand as she did. "Come on Clint, lets get back to our room. Your little gymnast finally settled down and I want to either have sex or sleep during the lull. Take your pick."

Clint chuckled and moved so his arm was around Darcy. "I like option B."

"Option B it is then!"

* * *

><p><strong>And long chapter. Woot. Sorry this took so long to write, but I kept getting interrupted by life and people needing me to editproof papers among other things. Anyway, let me know what you guys think. Sorry if there was anything over the top in this or that didn't make sense.**


	13. Prompt: Understanding

**And, I promise I'm still alive though I'm not completely sure I'm functioning at the moment. Due to a family emergency/death I'm probably going to try to write really uplifting stuff right now and, though I will attempt humor, I can't promise anything will be exceptionally funny. This prompt is probably a good example of it, as it didn't turn out as funny as I wanted it to but it establishes a concept that I wanted to for potential future use so it serves it's purpose. Again, I apologize and the next few should be more fun.**

**Anyway, hope you guys enjoy this!**

**- Illusinia**

**Prompt: **understanding

**From: **avengers-tables .livejournal **under 50-word prompt (yes, I do intent to use all 50 words)**

**Pairings: **Clint/Darcy (hopefully we all know this now)

* * *

><p>Clint paced uneasily before the one-way mirror that overlooked the conference room. Natasha stood beside the glass, staring in at the strange sight before them. Thor was seated across the hallway beside Jane who looked about as uneasy as Clint. Steve stood to the other side of the glass and Tony had his ear pressed against the conference room door.<p>

Inside, Fury, Darcy, and Loki all sat around the table looking at each other. Fury had his hands folding in front of him and was glancing back and forth between Darcy and Loki. For her part, Darcy was leaning back in her chair with a leg thrown over one of the chair arms. Loki just kept looking back and forth between Darcy and Fury, back straight and a look of pure curiosity on his face. They didn't think anyone had said a word yet, but it was hard to tell. Coulson had disabled the exterior audio personally.

"You will wear a hole in the floor with your pacing Clint," pointed out Natasha calmly. "Relax."

Clint glared at the Russian ex-assassin. "Easy for you to say Tasha. It isn't your pregnant girlfriend who's in there with Fury and a supervillian!"

Jane shook her head slowly. "I still can't believe Darcy is _pregnant_ and didn't tell me."

"How far along is she anyway?" asked Tony, his head momentarily leaving the door to look up at Clint.

The archer sighed as he turned back towards the glass looking into the room. "Almost two months. We were going to tell people after three."

One of Natasha's hands came out to squeeze Clint's upper arm, a comforting gesture meant to sooth him. "Fury will not allow her to come to harm."

"And Loki will not cause her harm," assured Thor. "Of all the Asgardians I have known, Loki is the most respectful of Midgardian women, especially ones with child." A faint smile fell across Thor's lips as he looked towards the room where all three individuals still sat. "Besides, Lady Darcy has earned my brother's respect."

Tony snorted. "Yeah, I guess getting lit on fire by someone when you're a god probably requires some kind of respect."

Inside the room, Loki suddenly leaned forward as Darcy held out her hand. Fury leaned closer as well, one visible eye going wide. Both men stare at something Darcy's hand but no one could see what was happening. Fury was saying something, then Loki was doing the same, but without sound it was impossible to tell what was being said.

"Damnit, I wish Fury hadn't disabled the sound," muttered Clint in frustration as he resumed his pacing.

* * *

><p>Darcy grinned and leaned back again, closing her hand and extinguishing the flames that had been dancing there. She'd gone though several of the different types she could create, shifting between them as easily as if the action was natural. Which, well, for her it was.<p>

Across the table, Loki's eyes assessed her with mild interest. "Curious. You are a strong Midgardian Witch, are you not?"

Darcy shrugged. "I wouldn't know. I don't met a whole lot of people like me."

"She's strong by our standards," confirmed Fury who was looking at her with a new respect. "I haven't met many who can work with raw energy like that."

"I hate processing energy," muttered Darcy. "It always feels unnatural."

Loki snorted. "It _is _unnatural if you have processed the elements."

Fury nodded and sat up more. "You're stronger than I expected. How much of this do you actually understand?"

Darcy raised an eyebrow at Fury. "Everything. I've been working with this stuff since I was little. Why?"

"I have an idea," explained Fury as he leaned back, steepling his fingers together. "Through the years, I've met others like us, Miss Lewis. Individuals who can utilize energy. Some are powerful, some less so. A good number of these individuals had no idea they were any different from other humans."

"But we are," confirmed Darcy with a nod, leaning forward and crossing her forearms one before the other. "We aren't mutants, our abilities are too old and don't have a visible effect on the world."

Fury nodded. "Yes, but we can have an effect as you proved yesterday."

Darcy snorted. "Lighting someone on fire only works if they can feel what's happening."

"Believe me, I could feel your magical flames," muttered Loki with a shake of his head. "It burned to my very soul."

"Exactly," explained Fury. "There are others that can effect the physical realm much as Miss Lewis did and never get _caught _because no one can see them. Furthermore, many individuals capable of working with metaphysical energy do so without realized and run the risk of hurting others as a result."

"So what are you proposing?" asked Darcy. "That we start a support group?"

Fury shook his head. "More like a school similar to Xavier's, a place where individuals who are capable of working with metaphysical energy can learn and gain support."

Loki nodded, seeming to understand. "I am familiar with the idea of the mutant school. It seems very successful."

"It is," confirmed Fury. "I want to-"

"No," cut in Darcy, shaking her head as she started to stand. "Sorry Fury. I agree with S.H.I.E.L.D's mission but I refuse to have any part in a school meant to allow people to be tagged and convinced into joining an underground defense organization. No matter how good their mission is."

Fury blinked at Darcy in surprise. "I wasn't suggesting we create a school so I could gather additional agents, Miss Lewis. I was proposing it because by creating a school for this very reason, we can actually _reduce_ the number of incidents that S.H.I.E.L.D has to deal with but can do nothing about. We get calls frequently because a metaphysical energy user loses control and accidentally hurts someone. It isn't right to punish someone who hasn't caused _intentional_ harm to another individual. Rather, I'd like a way we can help them. Growing up, much as you did I'm certain, without anyone to explain what is happening or why its happening can be disorientating. This would be a way to help those individuals while reducing S.H.I.E.L.D's workload and protecting the world."

Darcy slowly sat back down, laying a hand on her stomach in thought. She wasn't anywhere near showing, but the action was comforting. "You want to _help_ people like me?"

"Yes," confirmed Fury. "I've spoken with Professor Xavier extensively about this, to see if there was any way he could mentor them. However, he believes that would be a bad idea because there is no visible manifestation of this particular ability."

"They could be shunned or mocked by the others," confirmed Darcy with a sigh. "Which would be bad for them because they might begin to believe they have no power."

Fury nodded. "Or they could retaliate and cause more damage than any of their mutant classmates could ever imagine."

Darcy nodded, dropping her head to rest against the back of her hand. For several moments, she was silent. Fury just waited with patience while Loki began to shift in his seat.

"Alright," agreed Darcy at last. "I'll teach them, or at least help teach. But, you have to swear that you won't try to recruit anyone Fury."

"Agreed," swore Fury as he reached a hand toward Darcy who took it with caution. "Welcome, Miss Lewis, to the S.H.I.E.L.D School of Metaphysical Energy Manipulation."

"No," corrected Darcy. "The Metaphysical Institute."

Fury nodded with a smirk, shaking her hand. They'd come to an understanding that would help a lot of people. Plus, maybe he could finally have a meal without receiving an emergency call from the hospital.


	14. Prompt: Again

**Story of how Clint and Darcy first meet. Featuring: Coulson!**

**Enjoy.**

**Illusinia**

**Note: I have made a change in here for consistence's sake so the story line flows right. I've changed the one instance of 'mom' to 'aunt', which is what it was supposed to be.  
><strong>

**Prompt: **Again

**From: **avengers-tables .livejournal **under 50-word prompt (yes, I do intent to use all 50 words)**

**Pairings: **Clint/Darcy

* * *

><p>The first time they meet, Darcy has pushed herself into a corner of the bar to watch everyone else pass by. She doesn't like having her back exposed. Call her paranoid, but the sensation of random people walking behind her is uncomfortable. And after the day (scratch a that <em>week)<em> she's had, dealing with people doing anything remotely creepy doesn't sound like fun. Which is exactly why she's made damn sure she can see the rest of the bar that night.

And is exactly why she notices when the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents appear en masse, heading straight for the bar. The noise they manage to kick up is extraordinary. For a group of people supposedly working for a secret branch of the US government, they sure as hell don't know how to keep a low profile.

Darcy lasts about ten minutes before the noise becomes too much and she is sick of fighting the urge to run. Downing the remainder of her beer, she slides into the only open space at the bar to wave down the bartender and pay her tab. Without thought, she pulls down the sleeves of her sweater so her hands are covered. No point in making it any easier to accidentally touch one of the S.H.I.E.L.D guys. She really doesn't want to know what weird information is rolling around in their heads. Check in front of her, she drops enough cash to cover the tab plus the tip before turning to leave.

Instead, a body collides with her as she passes the S.H.I.E.L.D mass, knocking her to the ground.

Glancing up with a glare, she notes that the perpetrator is standing over her with wide-eyed surprise mixed with an apology. His dark brown hair is cut short like someone from the military but with enough length that it could look messy. Grey eyes met her own blue ones and he quickly reaches out to help her up, an apology on his lips.

"Its fine," cuts in Darcy as she slides away, careful not to touch him as she stands. "Just watch what you're doing. Rough housing around drunks and all."

She dodges out the door without a second thought, a glance back, or giving the man enough time to apologize. Her head has started to pound slightly, her skin feels like its crawling with left-over power, and her body appears to be attempting to vibrate into pieces. The last thing she needs is to accidentally touch some hot guy at a bar. Besides, it isn't like she was ever going to see him again.

* * *

><p>When they meet again, it isn't under better circumstances.<p>

Not a week after the bar incident, Darcy is finally feeling better. Apparently, whatever weird energy the bifrost gave off that had her wanting to tear her own skin off has mostly dissipated and what little is left she can manage. Unfortunately, that happens to be the same day some crazed scientist-turned-wanna-be-villain decides that Jane's research is the creme-de-la-creme of all potentially steal-able research and attacks the lab. With giant ants that breath fire. Seriously, if Darcy didn't grow up with the family she did, she might have issues with this.

As things stand, she nearly does when one of said ants attempts to barbeque her. Lucky for her, an arrow saves the day. By punching through the ant's head. An arrow. What the hell?

She wants to ask questions, wants to look behind her and see who actually _fired an arrow at a giant ant_ but doesn't get the time. Because suddenly there is an arm around her waist and she's being pulled up through the hatch onto the roof. Someone is touching her. Without her permission. It takes every ounce of will and control not to send the guy (definitely a guy with arms like those, dear gods...) into a fear-induced coma. That would be especially bad given he's one of the good guys.

At least, he feels that way. A nagging suspicion in the back of her mind tells her that she's felt this guy near by before. She knows there are agents that hang around the lab almost constantly, mostly in the shop across the way or on the roof of said shop. Every once in a while, she'll feel someone up on the roof too, though she's never been able to catch whoever it is. They've always disappeared when she's gotten up there, already off down the street and out of normal sight.

The arm releasing her bring back to mind the situation at hand and Darcy tries to move away from the trap door leading to the roof. She lands rather _gracefully_ on the improvised deck but still manages to scoot back. Thankfully, Jane had been out of the lab collecting data when the attack happened so Darcy was the only one in danger. Otherwise there would be more problems to deal with. As it stands, she needs to find a way to explain why some of the data sheets are going to be a little singed.

"You okay?" asks the guy who just pulled her ass out of the literal fire.

Glancing up, she finds herself looking at a guy with military-cut but slightly messy brown hair and concerned gray eyes. And a big bow slung across his back. The eyes and hair catch her attention more though, because looking at him from her position on the ground it becomes very clear _why_ that voice in the back of her head has been nagging at her non-stop that this guy is a good guy. He's a S.H.I.E.L.D agent, the same one who knocked her down in the bar two weeks ago. The one she ran from.

Damn karma.

"Y-yeah," stutters out Darcy. "I'm fine, just glad I'm not well-done."

Gray eyes cracks a smile. "Good to know." One of his hands appears before her, an offering to help her up. "You gonna let me help you up this time, or you gonna run away?"

Darcy shrugs and takes his hand, careful to create a barrier between their touching skin. "I guess I can let you help me _this_ time. But if you keep knocking me on my ass, I'm gonna start thinking you like to see me on the ground."

His hand closes around hers, strong and callused but comforting. "Maybe I just like getting the opportunity to help you up."

"Or you just like holding my hand," jokes back Darcy as he pulls her up. Her legs are a little wobbly from the sudden adrenaline drain, but his arm is there to hold her up.

"Could be," he replies with a smile that crinkles his eyes a little. "Or maybe I just like getting the chance to touch you."

Darcy chuckles a little. "If that's the case, maybe you should ask me out." She doesn't know where that comes from. Especially because her dad may or may not kill her for suggesting that to a _S.H.I.E.L.D_ _agent_ of all people, but the man in question doesn't seem too upset.

He looks more hopeful than anything. "Are you going to leave before I get the chance to this time?"

Okay, she wasn't expecting that. "What?"

Before he can say anything else though, the trap door behind them is slamming open and Agent Coulson is climbing onto the roof. "Agent Barton, is everything alright up here?"

Darcy quickly moves away from the man, noting his last name. "Yeah, we're good. A little singed, but good."

Coulson raises an eyebrow, shooting her the 'I don't know what I just walked in on, but we will be discussing it later young lady' look she's learned to dread. Largely because those conversations are never comfortable. Which is exactly why she always makes sure to call her aunt immediately whenever one of those looks comes out. Unfortunately, her cellphone is downstairs, possibly melted to her desk. Damn.

"We're fine sir," confirms Agent Barton. "Miss Lewis appears to be unharmed."

"Good." Coulson dismisses him with a wave of his hand. "Please, help secure the rest of the building."

Agent Barton nods as well and disappears with a 'yes, sir', leaving Darcy and Coulson alone on the roof. Coulson's look changes as soon as Barton leaves, transforming into the 'I know you were up to something, now spill' look that she learned to dread when she was five. Mostly because the look alone makes you want to confess to every bad thing you've ever done. Probably why he's so good a wrangling Agents: Coulson's experiences as a father left him with more than enough tools in his arsenal.

"Well?" prompts Coulson, apparently running out of time. He has the patience of a saint when there's nothing else on his plate.

Darcy shrugs. "Well, what? I got attacked by giant ants with built-in blow torches."

Coulson sighs and moves to one of the chairs on the roof, motioning Darcy to the other. "I figured that part out, Darcy."

"Okay, so what else do you want Dad?" dodges Darcy as she drops into the other chair. "I was in trouble, Agent Muscle Arms saved me."

"His name is Agent Barton," corrects Coulson, careful to hide any discomfort he feels at her nickname for the man who rescued her. Of course, having your daughter make a remark about the physique of one of your agents had to be uncomfortable. Darcy knows this. She also doesn't care. "I meant, did I walk in on anything inappropriate."

Darcy shrugs again. "Define inappropriate."

"Darcy..."

"Fine," sighs Darcy, giving in because she knows there's no way her father will let her leave unless he's sure she's not going to end up in trouble, again. "You walked in on a bit of banter spawning from the fact that this was the second time we'd meet where I ended up on my ass. There may or may not have been some adrenaline involved."

Both of Coulson's eyebrows shoot up. "And the first time you met would be..." She could hear the warning in his voice. Despite Coulson's lack of presence sometimes in Darcy's life, no one threatened his daughter. Or pushed her around.

"At a bar the other night," explains Darcy, eyes focusing on the roof-top gravel. "I was having one of those _days_ except it was more like a week and I just needed to be away from people but then the agents flooded the bar so I went to leave and Barton ran into me _by accident_ and knocked me flat on my ass. Happy?"

She was careful to emphasize the 'accident' part of that statement. There was no way she was going to have her father going after some innocent (or at least not-at-fault, as her father had taught her there was no such thing as innocent) agent.

Coulson shook his head, brow furrowing in concern. "No, I'm far from happy. What do you mean you had one of those _days_ that was more like a week? Are you not feeling well?"

Darcy rolls her eyes, rubbing a bit at the bridge of her nose. "I'm fine now. It was just something with the bifrost that upset my balance and made me feel like an over-charged battery for a week."

"As long as it's gone," sighs Coulson as he stands to look out over the scene below where the S.H.I.E.L.D agents are escorting Mr. Crazy Scientist into a black van. "I'm going to push Dr. Foster to move her work to New York once your internship is up."

"Why wait?" asks Darcy curiously. "Obviously its not safe out here."

Coulson shrugs. "I don't really want you in New York right now. I'm not fully convinced its any safer and there is no way for me to ensure that you'd have a secure place to live outside S.H.I.E.L.D."

"And my living in S.H.I.E.L.D. housing is out because if anyone ever found out I'm your kid, I'd be in danger," finishes Darcy with a sigh. "Yeah, I know."

"Darcy..." starts Coulson but she shakes her head and stands, cutting him off with a raised hand.

"Seriously Dad, I get it." Really, she does. For years she didn't, but after seeing a god fall off some kind of magic rainbow bridge (seriously, Lucky Charms anyone?) and almost getting burned to death by a giant robot, things became a hell of a lot clearer. "And for the record, you walked in on Agent Barton possibly trying to ask me out for a second time. Apparently, there was a first."

Coulson nods tightly. "I see."

Sighing, and recognizing the 'I see' for what it was, a 'our discussion is done', she turns to leave the roof. However, her foot is just lodging itself into the loop of the trap door when Coulson speaks again.

"His first name is Clint."

Darcy glances over her shoulder at her dad with a raised eyebrow. "Huh?"

"Agent Barton," explains Coulson, head turning to look at Darcy. "His first name is Clint."

A smile starts to break over her face. "Is that permission?"

Coulson shrugs with a hint of his own smile. "It's a 'I won't stop you'."

The smile spreads into a blinding grin. "Thanks Dad!"

With that, Darcy practically slides down the ladder, whistling cheerfully as she does. She knows there is probably a reason her father gave her permission to essentially date one of his agents (or at least have some fun with the guy...mmmm, arms!), but she doesn't want to question it. At least not right now. Maybe later, when her body isn't still a little jacked up on adrenaline and her mind is caught up with what happened, she'll wonder why he gave in. But until then, she's going to at least enjoy a fantasy or two about Agent Barton. Who knows, maybe she'll bump into him again and they could actually make it past that asking stage of a date.


	15. Prompt: Letters

**Short, sappy, possibly sweet. Take it how you will and enjoy.  
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**Illusinia  
><strong>

**Prompt: **Letters

**From: **avengers-tables .livejournal **under 50-word prompt (yes, I do intent to use all 50 words)**

**Pairings: **Clint/Darcy

* * *

><p>It was with a heavy sigh that Clint drops into the chair before his desk, spinning slightly with his forward momentum. This isn't a S.H.I.E.L.D drone desk of course, its the desk in his room with the computer that he doesn't use for anything other than e-mail and the occasional report. Which usually never got turned in anyway. At this point, Coulson has actually almost completely stopped asking.<p>

Opening a browser window, he clicks over to his e-mail and starts to skim. Half of the requests are report reminders (Coulson still had to try at least _sometimes_) while the other half appear to be Stark-related spam. Stark-related spam being random shit that Tony finds and decides everyone needs to see. Fury's e-mail appears to be on a few of the messages. Those Clint is almost tempted to open. Almost.

Deleting everything Stark-related that doesn't look important (which is all but one of the fifty or so e-mails) and sorting the S.H.I.E.L.D stuff into the 'folders' he keeps connected to his account (most had names like 'consider lighting on fire', 'hell no', and 'this isn't a request'), he found himself left with one e-mail that didn't relate to either Tony or Coulson. The address was one he wasn't familiar with, but the subject heading told him who had sent it: 'E-mail has replaced letters'.

The quip brought a smile to Clint's face. Darcy would feel the need to point that out. After their last conversation though, the sentiment behind the e-mail was really what counted.

* * *

><p><em>It had been one of their last evenings together before she left to return to school. They'd gone into the desert for some private time and to just enjoy each others company under the stars for a bit. Between Jane's insane drive for work that tended to drag Darcy off for hours and Clint's own S.H.I.E.L.D. schedule, they'd found that alone time only happened when they disappeared together during their 'time off', which wasn't really time off so much as time that was theoretically theirs to utilize how they wanted. Although, that night really was Clint's time off. Coulson had given him the night off rather abruptly and told him to enjoy it.<em>

"_So you were Army, huh?" asked Darcy with a smirk, drawing Clint's attention towards her. He nodded, causing her grin to widen. "Wow. I bet you had women swarming you."_

"_Hardly," sighed Clint as he sipped his own 'liquid bread' (Darcy really needed to not show him internet phenomena like the _Beer Song_). "There wasn't anyone interested in me back then."_

_The derisive snort that came from Darcy wasn't a surprise. "Sure you didn't. Bet you just didn't notice anyone wanted to jump your ass. Which I guarantee someone did." For a moment, she leaned back to examine said ass before leaning forward again and grinning. "Yep, definitely a jump-able ass."_

"_Nope," corrected Clint. "I didn't have anyone stateside and no one I met was ever interested in hanging around with a sniper who played with a bow."_

"_But the bow is awesome," insisted Darcy as she leaned back against the back of the backseat of the jeep who's trunk they were currently in. They'd filled the open trunk with blankets and made something of a nest, with full intentions of messing said nest up later. _

_Clint shook his head and tossed his empty beer bottle into the backseat with a few others. "I think so, but apparently no one else did. I never even got a letter while I was in the Army." The look on Darcy's face melted into one that was far softer than he'd ever seen. Almost like she could understand somehow._

_Throwing her own bottle in the back after downing the rest of her drink, she grabbed his hands and tugged him down so they were laying in their nest. One of her hands slid up to cup the back of his neck, pulling him over so they were eye to eye. "Starting when you get back, we're going to change that. I'm not gonna send letters, 'cause those take too long, but I'm going to start e-mailing you. I don't know about back then, but there are people around who love and care about you now." Leaning up, she kissed him softly, slowly, before laying down again. "And I intend to remind you of that fact."_

"_Darcy," murmured Clint, even as she pulled him flush against her body. For a moment, he just let her words wash over him. He didn't talk about his time in the Army often. Mostly he tried to forget that time of his life. It had certainly been one of the lonelier time spans. Her words were like a balm though, soothing some of the older hurts he'd sustained._

_Her lips connected with his again, but she made sure that the kiss was well controlled. Soft and soothing for the several minutes it lasted before they broke away. "Clint."_

_They didn't say much more after that, their conversation being replaced by actions. Ones that reflected exactly how they both felt._

* * *

><p>Smiling at the memory, he opened the e-mail and silently read through the text. It wasn't long. Mostly just a few words about her day, asking if he was okay, and promising to call him that night for some hot, steamy phone sex that would leave anyone monitoring his line in a puddle of goo. Mundane, everyday stuff. She could have easily called and told him as much. But somehow, knowing she took the time to write the e-mail added a value to her words that no phone call could make up for. She cared enough to write him in order to erase prior feelings of isolation that still haunted him to this day. Somehow, that simple e-mail started to eat away at years of hurt.<p>

And as he started typing out a response, giving her what little information he could, the past that normally hounded him seemed to ease up a little. He wasn't running away from everyone he met any more. Now, he was running towards one.


	16. Prompt: Regrets

**Thank you HeroInTraining for betaing this!  
><strong>

**Prompt: **Regrets

**From: **avengers-tables .livejournal **under 50-word prompt (yes, I do intent to use all 50 words)**

**Pairings: **Clint/Darcy

* * *

><p>"So how does it feel to be a grandfather?" asked Darcy as she watched Phil Coulson cradle Molly with the care of an experienced father.<p>

Phil smiled. "I wish it had happened later, but I'm not particularly upset."

A smiled blossomed over Darcy's face as she leaned back against the pillows on her hospital bed again. For several minutes, she simply watched her father hold her daughter with all the care of a man holding a nuclear war head and all the confidence of one who's done it before. "Clint'll make a good dad."

"He will," confirmed Phil as Molly cooed in his arms.

Darcy sat up a little more again, shifting so she could see both her father and daughter's face. "Do you think we should tell them?"

Phil cocked an eyebrow at her, but made no other surprised motions. This was his daughter, he'd spent almost 25 years dealing with her chaotic mind and random segues. "With the number of secrets we keep, both as a family and professionals, I'm afraid your going to have to be more specific on all of the above."

"I mean, should we tell them that you're my dad," supplied Darcy with a roll of her eyes. "What else would I be talking about?"

"Any number of things, knowing you," supplied Phil with a sigh. "Why do you want to tell them?"

Darcy shrugged and started ticking points off on her fingers. "I want to call you Dad sometimes? Molly is going to have to know who her grandfather is eventually because, no, I am not going to bar her from knowing her grandfather. Clint and I are getting married eventually, so he probably ought to know before then just to avoid anything too awkward. Um," for a moment she paused, eyes dropping to the sheet covering her lower body, "I _might_ want you to, uh, walk me down the aisle when that happens?"

Both of his eyes shot up to her and, for the first time she could remember, he looked a little overwhelmed. "You want me to give you away? You, the epitome of female independence?"

"No, that's Natasha," corrected Darcy with a smirk. "What I am is a daughter wanting her father to stand next to her while she does what is possibly the scariest thing she can think of doing."

The teasing smirk at the corner of his lips calmed Darcy a little. "Even scarier than getting attacked by Loki?"

"So much scarier," confirmed Darcy. "At least Loki was something I knew how to handle."

Phil nodded and stood, handing Molly back to Darcy before kissing her one the forehead. "Alright, I'll _think_ about it."

"Fine," huffed Darcy with a faint smile. "Just remember, eventually I'm going to have to tell Clint so he stops acting like you're trying to steal me from him."

A full smile, a touch sad, spread over Phil's face as he turned to leave. "I believe the thieving happened in reverse."

"Yep," agreed Darcy with a yawn as she lay Molly back in the plastic bin the nurses had brought in. "Night, Phil."

Phil's smile fell a little at her words but he didn't let the faint hurt leak into his voice. He couldn't expect her to call him 'Dad' so long as he refused to allow the others to know. "Goodnight, Darcy."

Slipping quietly into the hospital hallway, Phil made his way out of the building in silence.

* * *

><p>Almost two weeks later, the Avengers were dispatched to an undisclosed location. The only people who knew where they were sent were Phil and Fury. Darcy was on maternity leave, so she wasn't allowed to work tactical or research like she usually would. This meant she was more than a little restless. Add to that an infant who didn't sleep through the night and her rest quota was near minimum on a good night. Ah, the joys of motherhood. It was this reason exactly that she came wondering into Phil's office almost a week after the Avengers had been deployed (and coincidentally the same day they were returning back as he had just learned).<p>

His eyes barely left the computer screen in front of him when she dragged herself into the room and collapsed on the sofa with Molly in the carrier beside the couch. "Still having trouble sleeping?"

"She doesn't sleep through the night is the problem," groaned Darcy as she shut her eyes. Beside her, Molly cooed quietly, eyes taking in everything around her. "I don't mind so much when I have help, but doing this alone is a bitch."

Phil nodded, taking in his daughter's exhausted form. "Close your eyes for a few minutes. I'll keep an eye on Molly."

Darcy yawned quietly. "Sure you can handle her?"

"I helped raise _you_," pointed out Phil mildly. "I think I can handle it."

"If you're sure," murmured Darcy, already half asleep.

"Positive," assured Phil as he stood and picked up the carrier. "She'll be fine. Sleep. Before you start hallucinating."

Darcy snorted slightly and curled up on the sofa more. "Told you, was those damn pain killers. Not lack of sleep."

He smiled softly and tugged the blanket on the back of the sofa over her body. "You can tell yourself that as much as you like."

"'s true," grumbled Darcy even as she drifted off.

Phil waited a minute before picking up Molly's carrier and setting it on his desk beside where he was working on some papers. Really, it wasn't anything too serious. Most of his work would start when the Avengers returned. Which meant he needed someone to watch Molly while he debriefed them. Meaning Fury, Foster, or Pepper.

He didn't think twice before dialing Pepper's number, making sure to keep his voice low even if he doubted an earthquake would wake up Darcy at this point. It only took two rings for the CEO to snatch up her cellphone. "Virginia Potts."

"Pepper," greeted Phil casually. "It's Phil."

"Phil," gasped Pepper. "Oh god, did something happen to Tony?"

"No," assured Phil quickly. "Mr. Stark is fine. He and the rest of the Avengers will be returning shortly from their current mission. Actually, I was calling to ask a favor."

Pepper paused for a moment, before answering in a suspicious tone. "Why are you whispering?"

"Darcy's asleep on the couch in my office," explained Phil, not even thinking to check himself on the open use of his daughter's name. "She's exhausted at the moment."

"I see," replied Pepper uncertainly. "What's the favor you need?"

Phil leaned back, giving the infant one of his hands to play with. "Could you watch Molly for a short time this afternoon while I debrief everyone when they get in? Darcy is exhausted and I really don't want to interrupt her sleep if I don't have to."

"You care a lot about her," commented Pepper with a hint of worry in her tone. "Phil, you don't have an interest in Darcy, right?"

He actually choked at Pepper's question, mind grinding to a halt momentarily as he tried to actually process her words. It nearly made him gag. "Pepper, no. Certainly not. That's...beyond deviant and disgusting."

Pepper snorted slightly, clearly unhappy with his response. "You make it sound like any interest in her would be illegal."

"Last I checked, incest was illegal," commented Phil, deciding he had to put an end to this idea right now regardless of his personal reservations. He knew Pepper wouldn't tell anyone of course, not even Tony. "Fathers should never have _that_ sort of interest in their own children."

"F-father?" breathed Pepper, who now sounded like she might be choking. Or surprised. "You're her...father?"

"Yes," confirmed Phil with a sigh. "And I'll ask that you keep that bit of information to yourself, please. I only said something because just the thought of someone believing I have that kind of interest in Darcy makes me sick."

Pepper groaned quietly and uttered something along the lines of 'this explains so much' before actually speaking to him again. "So, does that make you...?"

"Molly's grandfather, yes," confirmed Phil again. "Which is why I'm currently watching her. However, I can't bring her to the debriefing. So, could you watch her?"

"Of course," agreed Pepper almost immediately. "But Phil, you have to tell the others. At least Clint. He thinks your trying to steal Darcy away from him."

Phil shook his head. "As I told Darcy, its the other way around."

"He doesn't know that though," pointed out Pepper. "Unless Darcy told him, that is."

"She didn't," corrected Phil immediately. "She's been keeping this secret for a long time. We both have been."

"Why?" He could hear Pepper's confusion. "Why keep it a secret?"

"To keep her safe," replied Phil. "I started working for S.H.I.E.L.D before she was born and have been her whole life. I couldn't risk anyone hurting her. I still can't."

Pepper's scowl echoed through her words. "So you keep it a secret? Even now, when it doesn't matter any more?"

Phil blinked a little, leaning back. "Of course it still matters. I still work for S.H.I.E.L.D."

"Except now, so does she. She's on the tactics team for the Avengers Initiative. Her and Fury will start work on their training center for magic users in a few months-"

"Energy manipulators," interrupted Phil. "Its for energy manipulators."

"Either way," sighed Pepper. "She's going to be one of the lead instructors. Then, on top of that, she's engaged to an Avenger _and_gave birth to said Avenger's child. Phil, telling people you're her father isn't going to put her in any more danger at this point."

For several moments, he quietly considered Pepper's words before carefully responding. "What about the fact that I'm one of the top three in S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

"Irrelevant," assured Pepper. "Look, Phil, how has this worked out so far? Can you honestly say that you have no regrets where this particular secret is involved?"

"Of course I have regrets," admitted Phil with a sigh. "I have a number of regrets, mostly involving key events in Darcy's life. I couldn't be publicly present at her graduation because members of the Avengers and others I work with were there. I missed her sixteenth birthday because of a S.H.I.E.L.D-related emergency. Coming to her high school graduation wasn't possible. I did get to threaten a few boyfriends, but I can't threaten her husband-to-be because he's S.H.I.E.L.D. The list continues."

Pepper hummed. "And you can't walk her down the aisle when she gets married unless you admit to being her father."

"No," sighed Phil as he looked at Molly. "I can't be Molly's grandfather either. Not with the way the Avengers are going to guard her."

"So tell them," encouraged Pepper. "Look Phil, telling _them_ isn't going to cause any trouble. I'll assume Fury knows already and hasn't told a soul. And truthfully, most of the Avengers look at Darcy like a member of their family. Molly too. They would never do anything that would put either of them in danger. Darcy is probably the safest she's ever been in her life at the moment, so don't let your most likely invalid concerns for her safety over-ride your need to be her father. She needs you right now more than ever, so step forward and be there for her."

"I'm always here for her," corrected Phil quietly. "She knows I'm always here for her."

He could hear the noise level increase as Pepper stepped out of one room and into another. "Maybe you're there for her in a way, but you aren't _there_ for her. Just think about it."

"I am," assured Phil with a sigh. "The Avengers should be arriving back shortly. Can you come over here now?"

"Sure," agreed Pepper. "I'll be there in ten minutes."

"Thanks," sighed Phil. "I'll see you when you arrive."

The click on the other end of the line told Phil exactly how Pepper was feeling about him at the moment. And he had to agree: the CEO had every right to be annoyed with him. His eyes strayed to Darcy and where she lay on the couch. An adult with a baby of her own and an up-coming marriage.

For a few minutes, he allowed memories from when Darcy was a baby to play through his mind. In that same amount of time, he made a decision.

* * *

><p>It took half an hour to debrief the team once the Quinjet landed in the hanger. Mostly because the entire team just wanted to get home. Even Tony kept his snark to a minimum (which was maybe 80% of his normal snark quota, but it helped speed things along). When every question was finally answered and the events were all accounted for, Phil stood up and gathered his papers together.<p>

"Alright, we're finished for today," he informed them calmly. "I expect your reports in my office in two days by 5. No later." Everyone started standing and chatting a little as Phil gathered his papers and start to exit the room. However, a thought crossed his mind that led him to pause in the door frame. "And Agent Barton? Please collect Darcy from my office before heading to your apartment. I'll keep Molly for the night so you can both get some rest."

"Uh," started Clint, clearly a little torn about this. Several emotions flew across his face, most of which reflected worry or uncertainty. For a second, he seemed at a loss.

However, Tony cut in almost immediately which saved Clint from having to respond. "Careful Barton, I wouldn't do that. Coulson'll turn your kid into a robot ninja before she's one. Then you'll never find her."

Somehow that comment combined with Clint's uncertain look and everyone else's pitying glances in his direction (really, what was wrong with this team?) made something in Phil's mind snap. Well, he hadn't intended to do it this way but... "Actually, Mr. Stark, that will be a while in coming. I didn't start my own daughter's ninja-training until she was three and I intend to maintain that standard for my granddaughter."

Phil paused for a moment to take in the after-math of his little announcement. Seeing Tony attempting to surmise a reply with his mouth opening and closing like a startled fish was certainly worth anything else that came from this. Clint's eyes had gone wide and he looked as if a series of revelations had suddenly smacked him in the face. Natasha's own expression was blank, but one of her eyelids was twitching ever so slightly. Steve looked like he was trying to come up with something to say and hitting a brick wall. Repeatedly. Bruce was the only one who didn't look surprised, muttering something about how 'that actually makes sense' as he left the room. Coulson followed him, leaving the others to sort this out on their own.

* * *

><p>"How was she?" asked Phil in way of greeting as he paused in front of Pepper where she sat just outside his office, Molly in her arms.<p>

Pepper shrugged and handed the infant to Phil. "She was fine. A bit grumpy, but otherwise fine."

"Good," sighed Phil as he handed the infant his finger to play with. She cooed happily and stuck the digit in her mouth. "Thank you again, Pepper."

"Not a problem," assured Pepper as she stood and gathered her thinks. "How did the debriefing go?"

"The usual," replied Phil with a shrug. "Tony was perhaps a little less sarcastic this time, but perhaps that's the exhaustion."

"Hopefully," muttered Pepper with a shake of her head. "I love that man, but he pushes it sometimes."

Phil hummed and offered Molly a smile. "I told them, just so you know. Tony may or may not still resemble a fish out of water. You may have to retrieve him from the conference room, for which I apologize."

"You told them during a debriefing?" asked Pepper, surprised.

"No," corrected Phil. "I said something after the debriefing."

Pepper groaned. "Did Tony do it?"

"A little," admitted Phil, finally raising his eyes to look at Pepper again. "None the less, they are in conference room one."

"Thank you," sighed Pepper. "I'll go get him home and keep him there for a little bit. That way you should be able to avoid any commentary for a bit, until you work this out within your family."

"I appreciate that," thanked Phil as he opened his office. "Have a good evening, Pepper."

"You too Phil," parted Pepper as she walked away.

Slipping into his office, Phil quietly shut the door and turned towards where Darcy was still asleep on his couch. Her face was a little less tense than it had been earlier and some of the smudging beneath her eyes had dissipated. She was no where near rested but some of the normal pallor was back and she didn't look like a breath would knock her over.

Smiling slightly, Phil set Molly back in her carrier and knelt beside Darcy. "Darcy, sweetheart, its time to wake up." Predictably, she groaned and tried to roll away, muttering something about 'five more minutes'. The memory of he doing that same thing when she was 10 brought a smile to his face. "Come on Darcy, you need to get up. Agent Barton is back and I'm sure you don't want to keep him waiting."

That got a response. Both of her eyes opened, blinking in an attempt to clear the sleep from her head even as she sat up. "Really? When?"

"Half an hour ago," supplied Phil, a smile sliding across his face. "We just finished the debriefing."

Darcy's eyes narrowed suspiciously at him. "What did you do."

Phil cocked an eyebrow at his daughter, leaning forward on the balls of his feet. "What makes you think I did anything."

"You have that smile," explained Darcy with a yawn. "The one that you only get when you've broken someone's brain. So, what did you do."

"I may have...told the Avengers who your father is," admitted Phil as he stood and turned to pick up Molly's carrier and baby supplies.

Darcy groaned. "Damnit, really?"

"Yes," confirmed Phil, smile falling away as a furrow appeared between his eyebrows. "I thought you wanted the others to know."

Sighing, she stood and stretched. "I did and do, but I wanted to be there when you told them. I bet their looks were priceless."

A chuckle came from Phil as he started to herd Darcy out of the office. "I'll make sure you have the video footage by morning. Now, go home and rest. I'll take Molly for the night so both you and Agent Barton can get some sleep."

Darcy's eyebrows furrowed uneasily. "Are you sure you can handle her, Dad?"

"Positive," assured Phil with a smile as he herded his daughter from his office with his granddaughter on his arm. His semi-publicly known family. The family he could now act like a father and grandfather towards. "I raised you, remember?"


	17. Prompt: Relaxation

**And yet again, thank you to HeroInTraining for betaing this piece.  
><strong>

**Prompt: **Relaxation

**From: **avengers-tables .livejournal **under 50-word prompt (yes, I do intent to use all 50 words)**

**Pairings: **Clint/Darcy

* * *

><p>The first time Clint sees her at the shooting range, he's working off some steam. Not at Darcy of course, but at everything and everyone else. Especially Coulson, who had been particularly difficult recently.<p>

Darcy comes stalking into the range and he can practically see the anger coming off her in waves. Clearly, someone has pushed the wrong buttons because he's never seen her this mad before. Or something is really, really wrong.

He starts to step towards her, his aisle being on the tail-end of the range, but stops when he sees the gun she has holstered at her hip. Its a standard issue piece (9 mm with a double tap trigger rather than a safety you can accidentally engage at the most inconvenient of times) and one Clint knows he's seen before. Coulson's weapon looks almost identical to the ones carried by everyone else in S.H.I.E.L.D except for one detail: the back edge of the slide is decorated with a penguin.

Just like the one that decorates the weapon Darcy is now holding in her hands as she loads it with the skill of someone who's used to being around fire arms. When she raises the gun and fires multipled times in rapid succession into a target twenty feet down the lane, Clint knows she's hit at least close to the center of the target every time. Its hot in a way he didn't expect and only the pissed look on her face has him not approaching her. Or, you know, pinning her to the wall of the range.

She goes through all three of the clips she'd set in front of her before clearing the weapon and setting it down with a heavy breath. Her shoulders are less tense and her eyes no longer say 'I'm going to kill you', but the image of her firing angrily into the sheet of paper hanging down is still impressed enough in Clint's mind that he doesn't say anything when she leaves. Or make any moves to leave for almost half an hour more. Least he be caught staring (and possibly stalking, though he's not sure it counts when you simply choose not to approach the person).

Later, when he gets called to Coulson's office, a surreptitious glance at the gun resting at the older mans hip confirms Clint's previous memory of the weapon. Complete with penguin.

Three days later, Clint is again in Coulson's office only this time he's visibly angry. Upset. Pissed. And with good reason. S.H.I.E.L.D. released a mandate that requires all staff of a certain level obtain fire-arms training, which is reasonable. What Clint finds unreasonable is that _he_ is required to teach one of the fire-arms courses.

"Phil, this is ridiculous and you know it!" Clint's pretty sure his voice is a little loud but he really doesn't want to do this. Attempting to train a bunch of low-level number crunchers and secretarial personnel how to fire a weapon is a pain in the ass. Plus, he's an Avenger. This shouldn't even _be_ on his list of potential jobs. "I don't even _use_ a gun unless I have to."

Coulson starts to open his mouth but the door to his office is shoved open rather violently and without preamble. Clint reaches for one of the knives hidden on his person and spins to great the potential threat. Coulson doesn't make a move, or really give any indication this is an abnormal occurrence, even though Clint's pretty sure you have to be suicidal to just burst into the office of a high-level S.H.I.E.L.D representative.

A scowling and potentially murderous Darcy storms into the office silently, the look from the other day back in place. She waves mildly at Clint, ignoring the knife in his hand, and slams a piece of paper down on Coulson's desk. Her arms cross under her chest as she straightens back up and the way she's standing with her hip cocked slightly to one side belays just how POed she is.

"What the hell is this?" Her tone is a touch whiny, but mostly its indigent.

Coulson raises an eyebrow at her and glances at the paper. "It appears to be a piece of paper, Miss. Lewis."

"Haha," growls Darcy as she gestures at the letter. "I don't _need_ to take a fire-arms proficiency course. I'm plenty proficient."

"I agree, Miss Lewis. Is there a reason this matter is coming up?" asks Coulson with a cocked eyebrow. Darcy doesn't reply, just gestures at the paper she set on his desk. As he picks up the piece of paper and begins carefully examining its text, Coulson simultaneously removes his holster and weapon from the drawer he locks them in. Without pause he slides both across the desk at Darcy while keeping his eyes on the letter. "I see." Setting down the letter, he glances up at both individuals in his office. "I will call Director Fury at once with _both_ of your complaints. However, that requires you both to leave my office. Go attempt to relax. The range should be empty right now."

Darcy nods and takes the weapon, securing the holster at her hip like its second nature. "Alright, but if Fury won't relent then I want to test out of this bull."

"Of course." Coulson gives them both a pointed look as he reaches for his phone. "Now, out."

She doesn't say anything else as one of her hands latches onto Clints wrist, pulling him out the door. When they're outside, she shuts the door and maneuvers them towards the elevators leading into the basement. Clint will never admit it, but he's feeling a bit shell shocked. Not only has his girlfriend just burst into his boss's office unannounced, but she managed to wordlessly procure said boss's weapon. And gotten them a small amount of time off.

Once the doors are shut, Darcy turns to face him while leaning against one wall of the elevator. "He'll get us out of this." Her words are so certain, its hard not to believe her. Even if she still looks angry.

"Yeah, I'm sure he will," mutters Clint uncertainly, eyes darting to the piece at her side. "Uh, so, his weapon?"

Darcy shrugs lightly as she turns her eyes towards the counter in the elevator's corner. "Fury won't issue me a weapon because I'm a civilian. And I can't carry my own 9 mm in here for the same reason. So, when I want to shoot something, Coulson lets me borrow his."

The elevator dings and opens before Clint can ask anything more (like _why_ Coulson would let his beloved side-arm out of his sight, much less allow Darcy to carry it around). Darcy doesn't pause as she exits, stopping by the armory for a moment. They don't say anything as the man who runs it slides three clips of 9 mm ammo at her. She nods in thanks and proceeds into the range.

Clint follows a little behind, watching with interest as she takes up a position at the first aisle again, pins up a paper target, and slides it out twenty feet. Then proceeds to fill said paper with lead. His eyes watch the way each shot seems to relax her shoulders and loosen her tensed muscles. The furious glint in her eye subsides to something more akin to focus than anger. Like she's seeing everything a little differently.

When the sheet is riddled with holes and looking incomplete in multiple areas, Darcy clears the weapon and summons the paper back to her hands. She's shaking a little when she takes it down and her eyes are blinking rapidly as if they can't focus, but she doesn't look as angry. He takes that as a good thing.

Finally, her eyes lift and she blinks at him, staring like he's a little hard to see. It doesn't seem to bother her though, and she motions to another aisle. "Aren't you gonna take a few shots?"

"I don't have my bow." He feels a little silly when he says that, but his previous comment to Coulson was true. He doesn't carry a gun. Or really prefer to use one. Knives and a bow are his preference, especially if he's working off steam.

Darcy starts to reply when her phone goes off, playing 'secret agent man'. She doesn't even glance at the screen when she answers and hits the speaker button. "So what's the verdict?"

"What have I said about putting me on speaker, Miss Lewis?" Coulson's familiar tone of annoyance filters out of the speaker.

"Not to do it unless I'm alone or only with another individual directly involved in the conversation," replies Darcy immediately. "Which is the case. Mick always vacates the armory when I come down to shoot. Something about scary accuracy and looks of murder. Anyway, its just me and Clint. So what's going down?"

Coulson sighs but continues regardless. "You've been cleared already, Miss Lewis. Apparently the memo was never supposed to be sent to you, so you may disregard it. As for Agent Barton, Director Fury informed me that this task is punishment for showing off to the younger agents and making them nervous. He gets to undo his own damage."

Clint groans. "That was once!"

Darcy snickers. "Serves your right." Her lips connect with his temple quickly, an attempt at sympathy. "Thanks Phil."

"It's Agent Coulson, Miss. Lewis." There's a touch of amusement in Coulson's tone even as the click of the phone disconnecting echos through the range. It's quickly silenced by a swipe of Darcy's finger over the disconnect button.

"Well, I'm clear," comments Darcy mildly as she slides the weapon back into its holster.

"Lucky you," mutters Clint with a pout. "I still have to go."

Smirking slightly, she slides up and wraps her arms around his neck, drawing his head close to her own. "Well, if your good I _might_ reward you."

"Good how?" mumbles Clint as he draws her close.

"Teach them and don't scare anyone," explains Darcy. "Or intimidate them."

"Done," growls Clint, pulling her close. "Now, how about we do a little more 'relaxing' before someone, a.k.a Coulson, comes hunting for us?"

"Sounds good," agrees Darcy, her hands sliding into his hair. "But first, I need to return his weapon."

Clint shakes his head but steps back none the less. "On one condition: you put your own on before coming by."

Darcy chuckles softly. "Gun fetish?"

"I like a girl who knows her way around firearms," admits Clint with a shit eating grin. "Though a bow would be hotter." The 'really?' look Darcy gives him is frighteningly familiar. Apparently, Coulson has been teaching her tricks. "Alright, no archery lessons. But can you still put on the holster?" He throws her the puppy dog eyes for good measure. It never really seems to do much, but he'll claim it does for as long as he can.

"Alright," relents Darcy with a heavy sigh as she heads back towards the elevator. "Lucky for you, I like relaxing with a gun."

Clint's eyes fell on her hips and the holster stored there. Somehow seeing his civilian girlfriend packing is hot on many different levels. He has a firearms fetish apparently, sue him. "Yeah, lucky me indeed."


	18. Prompt: Pictures

**As always, thank you to HeroInTraining for being an awesome beta. Any remaining mistakes are ones I missed on my last run-through.  
><strong>

**Prompt: **Pictures

**From: **avengers-tables .livejournal **under 50-word prompt (yes, I do intent to use all 50 words)**

**Pairings: **Clint/Darcy

* * *

><p>"Happy to be back, Clint?" Clint recognizes Natasha's quiet voice in a heartbeat. Its whispered in his ear enough times during missions over the years that her voice is hard to forget.<p>

He doesn't look back at her as he hoists his duffel onto his bed. "Eh, I'm gonna miss New Mexico a little. For all the damn sand, its not bad otherwise."

Natasha's smirk is audible. "I'm certain its not the environment that has you wanting to go back."

A hint of suspicion runs through him, prompting him to turn towards his fellow assassin. "What does that mean?" Natasha is standing in the doorway with her arms crossed under her chest and a teasing smirk that screams 'I know something' plastered across her face.

The smirk turns into a chuckle. "Someone's caught your eye."

He will deny the shiver that runs down his spine until the day he dies. "What makes you say that?"

"You've been...almost cheerful," explains Natasha with a shrug. "Plus, you hate the desert so for you to willingly state that you will actually miss a state that is largely desert _at all_ means you must have found something worth while there. For you, that probably means a girl. Or boy. I've never been able to figure out which it is with you."

The last bit is a jab meant to draw information out of him. He doesn't take the bait. "You're assuming 'Tasha, that isn't like you."

"You also dropped this," adds Natasha as she waves a small envelope in his direction.

Clint isn't familiar with the envelope but he can recognize Darcy's messy scrawl crossing the front. Where did that come from? And how did she slip it to him without his noticing? "I don't see how that means I've met someone."

He wants to grab the envelope from her. More than anything he wants to. Darcy is more than a little random at times and any envelopes from her are bound to contain something interesting. Or potentially embarrassing for him. In the light, he can faintly make out the edges of a note within the envelope's confines.

"Who else would be passing you letters?" challenges Natasha with a shrug as the hand holding the envelope drapes over the arm crossed just under her chest. "If you admit it, I'll give you back the letter."

Because talking to Natasha about his love life sounds so appealing to begin with. "Why do you care, anyway?"

She shrugs a little and starts to finger the edge of the envelope. "I have to watch my partner's back."

Mentally he calls Bull-Shit (complete with capitals), but verbally he says nothing. Natasha is the type to track down any girl he tries to date and interrogate them. He'll be hard pressed to keep Natasha from finding out who Darcy is as things stand, he doesn't want to have her snooping around before absolutely necessary.

Something in his eyes must give something away because Natasha suddenly shakes her head and holds out the envelope for him. "I expect to meet her eventually, Clint. If things ever become serious enough that is. Clearly, you two can't be that close right now."

It feels like another attempt to get information, but Clint is careful to keep his face neutral as he takes the envelope. He just wishes the comment wasn't so close to the truth. He really doesn't know where he and Darcy stand right now, and that is a big part of why he doesn't want to tell Natasha anything. Everything between them feels like spun glass and he doesn't want anything to shatter that bond before it has time to solidify.

He glances down at the envelope, then back up to ask Natasha to keep this quiet (he's not even going to pretend she doesn't know he has someone at this point) but she's already disappeared. Shrugging, he figures she won't tell anyone except maybe Coulson (who he thinks probably already knows) and carefully tares open the inconspicuous rectangle of paper. There's a piece of computer paper folded up inside. Slipping that out, he unfolds the sheet to find a letter and another small rectangle of blank paper clipped to the bottom.

_Clint,_

_You asked for a photo before you left, so here you go._

_Enjoy,_

_- D_

A smile drew across Clint's face as he recalled the conversation they had a few days before he had to leave.

* * *

><p>"<em>Darcy, do you have a photo of yourself?" asked Clint casually, attempting to keep the shake out of his words.<em>

_The brunette beauty he wanted to call his girlfriend looked up from the book she was reading to cock her head at him. "Uh, maybe? Why?"_

_Clint felt the blush climbing his cheeks. "Most guys like to have a photo of their girl when they're gonna be separated for a bit."_

"_Oh," replied Darcy even as her brow furrowed. "Why? I mean, its not like we don't have Skype or webcams."_

"_True," replied Clint slowly as he slid onto the couch beside her, wrapping her up in his arms. "But if I'm out on a mission, well, its one of those things I'd like to have."_

_For a moment, Darcy's brow remained furrowed. It relaxed a second later though when everything apparently clicked into place. "Oh, I get it. I don't have a photo for you though."_

_Clint managed to keep his disappointment from his face. He was leaving tomorrow and he'd been hoping to take a photo with him. "Okay, that's fine."_

_Of course, he could see in Darcy's eyes that she knew it wasn't. Which was why he wasn't too surprised when she marked her book and climbed into his lap. "We should give you a nice memory instead though."_

_The way her hips shifted against him were a dead give away for what she was thinking. A filthy smirk replaced his disappointed frown as he scooped her up from the couch. "I can completely get behind that."_

* * *

><p>Looking at the note in his hand now, Clint wonders if Darcy had found a picture she hadn't know about. Carefully, he unclips the photo to see what she had found and how old the image was. His jaw falls open as his eyes take the image in his hands. Well, that was unexpected. And definitely not work safe.<p>

The photo is of Darcy, as she'd promised. Only she wasn't wearing anything. And sitting in a position that made Clint want to jump her right that second. If it were possible for him to get back on a plane to New Mexico, he'd be there in a heartbeat. As things stood he was considering calling Coulson to request more down time.

He didn't realize there was a phone pressed to his ear or that the device is ringing until a voice comes over the line, soothing and familiar. "Hey Clint, what's up? Already missing me enough to call?" The last bit is a joke, but he's still in too much shock to laugh.

"Always," murmurs Clint. "Especially when I have a very provocative photo of you in my hands, the image of which is doing things to my body normally only your voice can do. Well, not just your voice but you get the drift."

There's a bit of a chuckle over the line. "Like it? I know you said that normally guys take photos with them and they're probably better shots, but I didn't have anything good to wear so hopefully that'll still work."

Clint groans. "Darce, you in anything more provocative than this would make it impossible to look at the photo without blowing something. It's hard to resist as things stand."

"Then I'm doing my job." There's a smirk in her voice that reminds Clint of the night he came into his room to find her laying naked on his bed with a book in her hand. She'd given him a smirk that had him naked in under ten seconds.

He smiles faintly as he stares at the photo. "It's a great photo Darce. I love it. But, why naked?"

"Huh?" Apparently, she's confused too.

A furrow forms between his eyes again. "I mean, why did you take the photo naked? Not that I don't appreciate the view. If it were possible, I'd be on a plane back to New Mexico right now."

There's a moment's silence before she speaks again. "I thought you wanted a naked photo. Otherwise I would have given you a random one from the summer."

The furrow deepens. "Why would I care if your naked or not? I just wanted a photo of you that I could look at when I miss you and can't call. Kinda like that pocket watch I gave you."

"Oh god." There's definite embarrassment in the moan she lets out. "I totally got that wrong. I thought you wanted something to jack off to."

Clint's pretty sure he's blushing a little, which shouldn't be able to happen with his assassin-secret-agent training. "Believe me Darce, I have more than enough memories from this summer to fill _that _particular role. Especially from that one night in the desert. And that time you snuck into my room."

"I did that a few times." Darcy still sounds embarrassed, but there's a touch of confusion to it now.

He chuckles and shifts to phone to examine the photo again. "I know."

She's silent long enough that Clint suspects the call dropped but her voice comes through the line before he can check. "I'm sorry Clint. Do you want a regular one? I can mail it to you."

His eyes trace the contours of her body on the glossy photo paper. "It would probably be a good idea. This one isn't exactly work safe and the view is a little distracting."

Darcy groans over the line. "Perv."

"Says the woman who practically ravaged me when I walked out of the bathroom in just a towel once." Not that he hadn't done the same thing the previous night when she'd walked out in his shirt.

Apparently, she remembered that night too. "Yeah, and you did the same thing to me the night before. We're even on the ravaging scale buddy."

"Probably." Damn, he wants to be back there. This is completely unfair and no girl should make him want to run across the country like this. And yet, Darcy does. "So, work-safe photo?"

"Will be in the mail tomorrow," she promises. He can hear her shifting something on her end, then an uttered 'what the hell?' before she's back with Clint. "Hey, I gotta scram. My dad's calling for some reason and usually when he calls its important."

Clint's a little disappointed but understands. "It's alright, I can deal. Skype tonight?"

"Totally," confirms Darcy. He can hear the grin in her voice. "Sounds like you need your world rocked, even if its long distance."

"Always," agrees Clint as he shifts. Damn if he doesn't want to jump her when she starts talking like that. He's got a meeting with Coulson in five minutes! "I'll talk to you tonight."

"Later Clint," parts Darcy. He can hear the click of the line as she switches calls and hangs up on his end with a sigh.

The photo is still clutched in his hand and he's careful to tuck it into a pocket on his uniform that has a zipper so it can't fall out. Carrying a photo of his girlfriend around. He'd always seen guys in the army do that, but never dreamed he'd be one of them. Secretly, he'd found the practice a little pathetic at the time but somehow Darcy makes him want to indulge in that practice. He is so screwed.


	19. Prompt: Transportation

**I was debating about throwing this one up or rewriting it before, but there have been requests for more 'powerful Darcy' storyline stuff (keep in mind, she has those powers in all of the stories, its just a matter of if she's using them actively or not). I do have one more story at least that deals with her powers but it's not finished yet and might need to be split (its getting a little long), so I don't know when that will be up.**

**Anyway, this one is a bit weirder than the others but hopefully it's not too weird. Thanks to my beta HeroInTraining who is the one that said it's not so weird it needs scraping. Enjoy!**

**- Illusinia**

**Prompt: **Pictures

**From: **avengers-tables .livejournal **under 50-word prompt (yes, I do intent to use all 50 words)**

**Pairings: **Clint/Darcy

* * *

><p>Clint wanted to bang his head against the door of the limo. Repeatedly. The one time the Avengers and Darcy agreed to take one of Tony's limos, they would get stuck in traffic. As in grid lock, haven't-moved-in-30-minutes traffic. He was going to shoot someone. Or himself. Okay, not himself because Darcy would raise him from the dead just to kill him again (he wasn't sure she could actually do that, but she'd made the threat before and he really didn't want to take any risks). Tony then. No, then Pepper would kill him and he'd be back to the being-raised issue. Damn.<p>

Sighing, he tuned back into the conversation at hand, namely the topic of Norse mythology. Darcy and Loki had been quietly listening to the stories while Tony listed off myths from Wikipedia. Most of them Thor had dismissed as being false, including several about Loki. For the past ten minutes, however, the look on Darcy's face had concerned Clint a little. When she was thinking hard about something, generally there was a look she got in her eyes that made him twitch a little.

"You know," cut in Darcy suddenly as Tony was launching into a story he'd found about Loki giving birth to a horse (seriously, what was wrong with the people who wrote these myths), "it kinda sucks how you've been demonized while Baldr was revered. He doesn't seem like he was a better person by any stretch. He actually sounds kind of dumb."

Loki nodded. "I believe the exact words of my immortal daughter's mortal friend were 'special snowflake'."

Darcy snorted as all eyes in the car turned to look at the two of them. "Seriously? He's mentally challenged?"

"After the fifth time his 'adventures' resulted in trouble, our parents opted to place him in a protective area," confirmed Loki with a bit of a smirk. "The type with padded walls. He has a rather lovely red ball that he favors though, to keep him entertained."

The snort degraded into giggles quickly. "Really? Huh, somehow I'm not surprised. Wait, back track. Immortal daughter?"

Loki nodded. "Yes, she is an immortal spirit I assisted another goddess in modifying so she was more, how should I put this, bipedal. By extension, she is my daughter because part of my magic was passed to her."

Thor's brow furrowed across the limo. "What daughter to you speak of, brother?"

"Rohana," supplied Loki. "You recall her."

"Yes, I do," sighed Thor unhappily. "Unfortunately. Is she still present here?"

"No," dismissed Loki. "My other self collected her from our realm once the threat to her person had passed. She has returned to her own realm now."

Both of Darcy's eyebrows shot up. "Own realm?"

Loki made a minor fluttering motion with his hand. "Dimension is a better word."

Clint hazarded a glance at everyone else who wasn't a god or metaphysically sensitive. They looked as stunned as he felt, so at least he wasn't the only one out of the loop. He'd have to talk with Darcy later, find out what else he might not know about that could be helpful. Like if there was the chance of random mutated lizards falling out of thin air.

"What was she doing here?" asked Darcy curiously. "I thought I felt something weird a while back."

"It might have been her coming through," confirmed Loki with a shrug. "Or her leaving. And she visited briefly because of something about her former brother the, as she put it, 'insane tree spirit with major mental issues' attempting to kill her and her friends."

Clint, who was already feeling dizzy due to the context of this particular conversation alone, felt his jaw hit the ground. Okay he knew Darcy and Loki had some pretty strange conversations, mostly because of Darcy's understanding of the metaphysical world, but this one took the cake. Dimension hopping immortal daughter of Loki? Seriously?

Tony broke in before Clint got the chance to comment. "Did you just say 'insane tree spirit with major mental issues'? 'Cause, last I checked, tree's don't have brains."

"Tree _spirit_," emphasized Darcy with a shrug. "Slightly different. Kinda like the idea of a spirit wolf."

Loki nodded thoughtfully. "That comparison is actually apt, given that her original form was that of a guardian wolf spirit. Well, a guardian wolf. It was never made clear to me if her form was physical or not."

"Nice," commented Darcy with a grin. "If she ever comes back, give me a heads up. I'd like to meet her. She sounds fun."

"When she is not attempting to light people on fire or threatening to bite if you do not return her to a human form I'm certain she is," confirmed Loki, a grin sliding over her face. "If she ever returns, I will be certain that you two meet."

Clint shook his head. "I think if she ever came back, Fury would shit himself."

Loki shrugged. "Entirely possible."

Darcy chuckled slightly and rubbed Clint's arm gently. "If Fury knew about _half_ the entities that pass through our world at any given time or even a fifth of the powerful people out there, he'd shit himself."

"It can't be that bad," insisted Steve. "We don't get called out on a regular basis."

"Fury also wouldn't call you _out_ for issues like what I'm referring to," explained Darcy. "He hasn't done anything about the power struggles in Atlanta, New Orleans, LA, or Seattle between the different energy manipulating groups in those areas. I'm not sure he actually _knows_ about the true number of dead people still walking around on Earth and I know he doesn't have any clue how dangerous the ones that have never been alive are. And he definitely doesn't know about the two dimensional crossings that went down last year."

Loki furrowed his brow in confusion. "How could he possibly miss all of that?"

Darcy shrugged. "You've got me but I'm guessing he doesn't know jack shit about any of that otherwise he'd probably have a conniption fit."

"Or a heart attack," muttered Tony as he blinked at Darcy like she was insane. "And no more magic mumbo-jumbo talk in my limo. Its making my brain hurt."

Natasha snorted. "That could be the hang-over too."

Tony shrugged and gave her a impish smile in response. Beside him, Steve was rubbing his head like he couldn't puzzle through everything that had been said. Clint gave him props for at least trying. Personally, he'd given up with the idea of multiple dimensions actually _existing_ came up.

"I think I'd rather just not know," sighed Steve finally. "Darcy, please do me a favor and never tell me if there's any kind of crazy metaphysical event or war or anything like that going down. Some things I just don't think I want to know about."

Darcy shook her head with a slight huff and a smile. "You sound like Clint. He keeps saying he doesn't want to know about this stuff but he's perfectly happy when I link him in so he can talk to our kid."

Clint had the balls to look a little sheepish. "That isn't really the same. I'm not fighting someone who can light me on fire when you do that. By the way, does everyone who has metaphysical powers lighting people on fire?"

"Not usually," replied Darcy, though she looked thoughtful. "Actually, out side of me and Rohana I've never heard of anyone else doing that. Loki?"

Loki shrugged. "I'm not the one to ask. Your Midgardian magic still confuses me. Perhaps Nicolas would know?"

"Maybe," shrugged Darcy. "I'll ask him later."

The limo came to a halt at that point, having arrived at their destination. No one had actually realized that they were moving again, but a glance out the window confirmed they had arrived at S.H.I.E.L.D. Darcy opened the door and climbed out carefully, using the roof and door to support her as she climbed through. Being almost 8 months pregnant meant she couldn't really bend well.

Coulson, who had been standing outside, offered her a hand then stepped back as Clint climbed out with the others, hands tucked in pockets of his pants. It wasn't normal to see the man so casual, but it probably had to do with the fact that he wasn't inside S.H.I.E.L.D proper. "Its good to see you all made it in one piece."

"Yeah, traffic sucked," explained Darcy with a shrug. "Nick inside? There's some stuff I need to ask him about."

"As always," confirmed Coulson.

Darcy gave him a grin. "Awesome. I'll meet you all in the offices once I track him down. Later!" She was gone without another word, moving surprisingly fast for a pregnant woman. Though Clint suspected she had to pee too.

"You look a little shell-shocked," commented Coulson as he took in the appearances of all the Avengers once they were out of the limo (Loki had teleported away as soon as they arrived, claiming to require entertainment now that Darcy was gone). "Interesting car ride?"

"Something like that," muttered Clint as he shook his head.

Tony snorted. "Underestimation of the year. Darce and Loki got into a discussion about dimension-crossing transformed wolves with insane trees for brothers."

"Oh," replied Coulson with a shrug as if the conversation were completely normal. "It must have been informative."

Natasha shot him a weary look. "You don't find this odd?"

Coulson gave her his 'you don't know weird but I've lived it' smile in return. "I over-heard her, Loki, and Director Fury having a debate about the probability of a war between necromancers and life readers once. Then Director Fury handed me a list of supplies I needed to acquire for the proposed institute. When you receive an order designating the need for ten pounds of desert rose quartz, seven pounds of dried whole-leaf sage, and enough glass to construct a room, you stop asking questions."

"I don't want to know," decided Steve immediately.

Tony scratched his head uncertainly. "What would you need all of that stuff for?"

"Desert rose to store energy, sage to clear the area of energy, and glass to act as a barrier to protect everyone else," replied Clint. Everyone blinked at him. "What? I live with Darcy. She's used all of that stuff before. Well, minus the glass. She told me about the glass thing at random one day. Apparently, something about the way it's made means it doesn't hold energy."

"Something along those lines," confirmed Coulson with a shrug. "Now, meeting?"

Tony nodded and headed into the building with everyone else in tow. "I never thought I'd say this, but after that conversation a meeting doesn't sound bad at all."

* * *

><p><strong>My Buddist friend actually did make the comment about Baldr being a special snowflake. Apparently that's how he came across in the myths to her.<br>**

**Up next is 'Fairness' which will wrap up the open bits from 'Regrets' with the Avengers and Darcy's own odd family.**


	20. Prompt: Reminder

**So, a few notes on this piece. **

**1) It's sappy (for my writing). Seriously sappy, a touch angsty, and not particularly humorous. There are some emotions in here (at least I tried to incorporate them) of longing and deep felt affection. If you don't want to read sap, move on. I tried really hard not to make Darcy sound mopy, but it's very hard to do. Anyone who's been in a long distance relationship will tell you that even the strongest people (including those declared Vulcan by their roommates) get a little mopy-sounding. Though Darcy's emotions may seem a little over the top or strong, I can actually speak from experience that this is how people start to feel after a while.**

**2) I doubt anyone would do this, but please no negative comments about people in long distance **

**relationships or the very nature of those relationships. I know at the very beginning that Darcy has some negative thoughts on the subject and for that I'm drawing from comments I've heard others say when admitting to 'doing the long distance thing' myself. I have a great respect for those who fight to stay in a relationship over long distances and want to make it clear that I am sensitive to their situation.**

**Alright, now that that's done, on with the story. Enjoy everyone.**

**- Illusinia**

* * *

><p>Long distance relationships never made sense to her and she could never figure out how any guy could ever be important enough for something like that. How any guy could ever be worthy of that kind of deep trust. In the back corners of her mind, she would acknowledge that part of that had to do with seeing her father suffer after loosing her mom like he did. Verbally, she'd just snort and insist that no one was that special, unique, or trustworthy.<p>

Apparently she was completely _wrong_ and had underestimated her own capacity for emotion, even though her father had joked that her mom was an alien (to which her mom had always smirked and told him that he'd just have to figure that out for himself). For the record, she was human. And apparently had the emotional capacity of the girl's she'd always thought were ridiculously stupid for trying to date over any kind of great distance. Trusting _anyone_ to behave when they were that far away just seemed stupid to her. It didn't strike her as logical, putting ones self though that kind of emotional pain.

So much for logic.

With a resigned sigh, Darcy rolled over in her dorm bed and lifted up on one elbow while reaching for her glasses. Lens' on, she tugged open the drawer in the table beside her bed and extracted a pocket watch. When she opened it, an old and cracked clock-face looked back at her along with a photo of Clint that he didn't know she'd pasted into the cover. It was one of the few photos she had of him, taken from the time they'd driven out to Carlsbad Caverns for a few days.

The original photo showed the two of them standing in front of a massive sheet of stone that glimmered in the soft light. He was leaning against the rail around the formation and had pulled her back against him, arms wrapped around her waist from behind. His chin rested on her hair and her entire body leaned back against his with an easy familiarity that surprised her. It had been their fourth official date. She'd never asked how he knew that she loved the caverns, with their damp environment and low lights that suited her eyes more than the bright ones she faced every day. Somehow, he'd figured it out though.

One finger traced over the features of his face, following the curve of his lips and glint of his eyes as he looked at the photo. It was him, the embodiment of his very being on a flimsy piece of paper. Just looking at the photo made her heart ache a little, but she couldn't resist looking none the less. Damn she missed him.

A frustrated breath slipped from her lips as she rolled onto her back and clicked the watch shut, wrapping both hands around it to focus on the feeling of him that echoed from the time piece. He'd offered to tell her its history, but she knew talking about that time of his life made him uncomfortable. Instead, she'd asked him what it meant to him. He'd told her that watch was one of the most precious possessions he owned. One of the few things he'd had since his childhood. And he was giving it to her. Warmth bloomed in her chest at the thought as one of her fingers stroked over the worn surface of the piece.

Closing her eyes, she reached out to touch the watch with her spirit and was rewarded with a faint ping as more of the watch's history attempted to flow through her mind. Normally she worked hard to keep from absorbing the memories of others off of objects or people, but with the watch everything was a little different. She found herself craving the chance to learn more about him without subjecting him to actually reliving the memories himself. When she missed him most, she would draw memories off the watch a little at a time.

Tonight was one of those nights.

When she was settled, she dropped the barrier her hands were generating and allowed the watch's history to flow into her mind slowly. Images slid slowly past her mind's eye, none remaining visible for long but still giving her enough time to absorb what she was seeing. She was always careful not to connect enough with an object that she'd receive emotions.

A circus tent flashed before her, followed by images of people dressed in various costumes. Jugglers, tight-rope walkers, lion tamers, and a variety of others she didn't personally know or couldn't recognize danced across her vision as they preformed their roles before she moved. All of the images were through Clint's eyes, allowing her to see exactly as he had in that moment. Allowing her to know the feel of the throwing knife as it slid through his fingers as he released it at a target. Understand the taunt feeling of the bow's string as he pulled it back before releasing an arrow. Heard the crowd cheer. It was a common memory, one of the ones she saw most when she touched the watch. It was hard to tell sometimes if she was seeing the same image over and over again or if each was a new performance. The only way to tell was to look at the audience.

It wasn't the same as having him there, but it allowed her to be at least a little closer to him. Gave her a hint of his presence, the thing she craved most. Reminded her that he was very real and that she wasn't living in some strange dream. He'd given her something precious to him. Given something precious to someone he trusted. Even if he didn't know it, he'd given her the ability to remain connected with him.

Briefly, she recalled when he gave her the watch.

* * *

><p>"<em>Clint?" asked Darcy with a raised eyebrow as he held a small box wrapped in purple paper in front of her. "What's this?"<em>

_Clint smiled and slid behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist as she stood looking at the box in her hands. "It's a gift. You're supposed to open it."_

"_Really genius? I never would have guessed," teased Darcy as she carefully removed the paper from the package. "I more meant, why are you giving me a gift?"_

_A kiss pressed softly against the junction between her neck and shoulder. He loved kissing her there. It was usually where he pressed his lips when he was feeling sad or lonely. Feeling the need to connect with her. "I'm getting reassigned soon and you're going back to school, so I wanted to give you something to remember me by."_

"_You're impossible to forget Clint," chided Darcy softly, dropping the carefully undone wrapping paper and flipping open the box lid. A warn and slightly tarnished silver pocket watch stared out at her from its carefully made cotton bed. For a moment, she'd blinked at the object before sliding it from the box to examine it closer. "A pocket watch?"_

_She felt him nod against her shoulder. "Yeah."_

"_Why a pocket watch?" she asked curiously, shifting so she could stare up at him. He wasn't that much taller than her, but he was tall enough that she had to lean back a little to look him in the eyes._

_The fingers resting on the bottom of her stomach slid to lightly grasp her hips. Normally, she hated to be touched. The sensation was hard to handle in most situations given what she could do. But Clint needed to be able to touch her, needed to feel that she was there. So, she let him touch her more than she let anyone else in her whole life. Somehow, it didn't bother her as much as she would have thought. "I've had it for years. I got it when-"_

_Two of her fingers rose to cover his lips, stopping his words before they fell. Her eyes met his as she turned to completely face him. The hands on her waist shifted so he could keep his hold. "Clint, don't tell me the history of the watch. I know you don't like to talk about your past and I'm not going to ask you to. Just tell me what the watch means to you."_

"_Hope," he murmured around her fingers, kissing the pads before he continued. "Good luck. I've had it since just before I joined the circus. Never thought I'd let it go until now."_

_Darcy felt her brow furrow. "I don't get it. Why are you giving the watch to me if it's so important to you?"  
><em>

_A smile touched his lips as one of his hands slid up to cup the back of her neck while he forehead came to rest against her own. "That watch is precious to me, just like you are. It seemed right to give something that means the world to me to the girl who means just as much."_

_Her breath caught in her throat at those words, impossible for her to throw off. To forget. She was precious to him, important enough to be given the right to hold such an important part of his life in her hands. Important enough to be entrusted with something he cherished. She'd kissed him before he could say more, carefully setting the watch and it's box aside._

* * *

><p>She was pulled from the memory by the ringing of her cell beside her head. Groaning, she glanced at the screen and prayed that it wasn't her father or Fury calling. Though she would never admit it, hearing her phone cellphone ring caused a small spike of fear to rise in her every time. It had been that way since her mother's accident, though Clint was helping to change that.<p>

Clint's name flashed across the screen (speak of the devil), begging her to answer the phone. There was nothing that could keep her from doing just that.

"Hey Clint."

"Hey Darce." Clint's voice was rough over the phone, tired. He'd probably just gotten back in from his latest mission. Though he really wasn't supposed to, Clint made a point of telling her when he was being sent out if it would be for longer than a day. "What's up?"

"Nothing," admitted Darcy softly. "I was just laying in bed and holding your pocket watch." She told him every time that he called if she'd handled the watch recently. It was a way of letting him know she appreciated the gesture and cherished the watch as much as he did.

His smile was audible. "Yeah?"

"Mhm," hummed Darcy wistfully. "I miss you Clint."

"I miss you too Darce," murmured back Clint sadly. "I've got some time saved up though and I want to try to come visit soon. Sound good?"

Darcy smiled softly. "That sound's amazing. Just let me know when."

"You bet sweetheart," assured Clint gently. She heard him shift around on his end and settle into a comfortable position. "I know it's late there, but do you have time to talk?"

"For you? Always," whispered back Darcy as she moved to lay on her side, one hand holding the phone to her ear and the other still gripping his watch as she settled in to talk with him for a while. She knew she'd probably fall asleep on the phone, but that didn't bother her in the least.

Clint's smile was a full grin now, at least she guessed it was based on his tone. "Great. You don't know how much I've missed hearing your voice Darce." A faint blush color her cheeks at his words. Hearing him tell her that always made her blush. It reminded her in part of why she loved him. "So, what's going on with you?"

* * *

><p><strong>Hopefully you all enjoyed this. <strong>

**So, I am still alive but I don't know how much I'll be posting any time soon. I have somewhere between five and seven different pieces that I'm working on at the moment along with a new piece that I've been pouring a lot of time into for my own mind's sake. At the moment, none of these pieces have met my satisfaction and most aren't done anyway but I am going to try to edit the pieces into something that I feel right about and get those up. I have pieces for all of my arc's in progress and nothing at this time has been abandoned. **

**Thank you all for your patience with me and I apologize for the long delay. I'm going to try to get 'fairness' up next, as its the continuation from 'regrets'. If anyone has an requests, questions, or comments, don't hesitate to message me.**


	21. Prompt: Fair

**Hey all,**

**So here's the sequel to 'Regrets'. It takes place the day after. I apologize in advance if this one feels choppy. My mood hasn't really been humorous recently, but I'm trying to get back into this series. Let me know what you all think and I'll try to have the next one up soon. Also, this one is unbetaed, so mistakes are mine.**

**- Illusinia**

**Prompt: **Fairness

**From: ** **under 50-word prompt (yes, I do intent to use all 50 words)**

**Pairing: **Darcy/Clint

* * *

><p><p>

Darcy awoke with a start when Clint suddenly shot up in bed, panting in the violent way he did when one of the nastier nightmares he had surfaced. Immediately, she slid away from him to give him air. It's a trick she'd learned from Phil, who had his own demons. He'd advised her on what to do before she and Clint had even shared a bed for the first time. Mentally, she's thanking her dad for his foresight yet again.

For several moments, the only real sound in the room is Clint's breathing as she holds perfectly still to give his mind a chance to adjust to reality. When his shoulders slump and one of his hands comes up to run through his hair, she slides around to kneel in front of him. "Clint?"

His head rises slowly, the terror gone from his eyes leaving nothing but exhaustion. "God Darce, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

She rolls her eyes like always and climbs out of bed without a fuss. "Don't worry about it Clint, things happen." Her hands snatch a pair of her jeans and one of his t-shirts off the ground, pulling them on easily. "C'mon, lets get up. We need to save Phil from Molly. Er, Dad. We need to save Dad from Molly. God that's going to take some getting used to. Being able to call Phil 'Dad' in front of other people that is and not just in my head."

The sensation of being watched draws her eyes back to Clint, who's looking at her with uncertainty. "Darcy, was that true?"

"Was what true?" asks Darcy, cocking her head slightly to one side as she looks at him. Its a motion he's seen her do a hundred times when she's not sure exactly what someone's talking about.

Clint shifts a little and follows her out of bed. "Is what Phil implied true? Are you his daughter?"

"Yeah, why would he lie?" At his further look of discomfort, she drops back down into the edge of the bed and tugs him to sit next to her. "Clint, what's wrong?"

He takes a moment to respond, apparently trying to decide how best to phrase this without getting his ass kicked. She's learned that's what his longer pauses mean, mostly from watching him get in trouble with Natasha. "Its just...it doesn't seem real, you know? Plus, I mean, that means I'm marrying my boss's daughter. It means I'm marrying Coulson's daughter. _The_ Phil Coulson, ninja boss extraordinaire."

"Okay..." replies Darcy slowly. "Is that a problem?"

"No!" His rapid response would be amusing if the situation weren't making her nervous. She never even considered that Clint might be uneasy having his boss as his father-in-law. Mostly because it's _Clint,_ master of casual and inappropriate. Well, casual. Tony is master of the inappropriate. Digressing. "No, it's not a problem. God Darce, I'd quit S.H.I.E.L.D. before I'd let this be a problem for anyone."

"So, what's got you spooked?" Her head cocks the side again as she raises an eyebrow in a very Coulson-like way. Its almost creepy to Clint how similar his girlfriend's facial expressions are to Phil's sometimes.

One of his hands slides through his short hair before he stands and pulls her to her feet. "I'm not spooked, promise. Its just...this is going to take some getting used to. The idea of Phil even having a kid to begin with is hard enough to swallow before you start throwing the fact that I've had my own daughter with said kid."

Darcy considers this as he pulls her out of the room towards the floor's kitchen. "Okay, I can see that. Just don't let it bother you, okay? Dad's known about us this whole time. Hell, that day you saved me from the giant fire-breathing ants he more or less gave me permission to date you. Or, well, at least say yes if you asked." Her hand tightens around his arm as she stops suddenly, pulling him to a stop as well and drawing him around to look her in the eyes. "For the record? Dad told me he's glad that its you who I'm with. He really respects you a lot and wouldn't choose anyone else for a son-in-law."

"Seriously?" Clint's hopeful look makes Darcy want to hug him. "He actually said that?"

"Yes!" exclaims Darcy with a sigh, shake of her head, and faint smile. "Dad really does respect you. Now, can we move on?"

Clint grins and tugs her into his arms. "Definitely. Though you still have to answer to the others."

The groan that escapes Darcy isn't a serious one, even as she buries her face in his shoulder. "Yeah, I know. It's only fair that I explain."

His lips ghost over the top of her head softly. "So, now or later? 'Cause people will be up now but we can go back to our room and dodge them for a few hours. Probably. Maybe. Depending on Tony's mood."

For a moment, he actually thinks she's going to scurry back to their rooms. However, she raises her head with a sign and pulls back from his arms before heading for the living room. "Might as well get it over with. C'mon van Helsing, lets get a move on."

Clint groans. "Darce, van Helsing used a cross-bow."

"Eh, its still a medieval weapon," insists Darcy. "Now lets go face the music. Or, at least I need to. Tony won't let me get away with hiding from him, no matter what his mood."

"Probably not," agrees Clint as he wraps an arm around her waist while they wonder towards the kitchen. He's only wearing the sleep pants he threw on last night, so his skin is nice and warm against her own where it touches. She takes comfort in that and the fact that Clint isn't going to leave because of Phil. If there was ever a choice, she knows who she'd pick in a heartbeat.

They reach the kitchen within a matter of minutes and neither one is surprised to find more or less all of the remaining Avengers gathered there. Sleep wasn't super-common in the Tower and everyone had pretty much collapsed upon arriving home the previous night. Which meant they'd all gone to bed obnoxiously early and were thus up obnoxiously early.

Natasha and Steve are both standing at the island with Natasha leaning forward against the counter top and Steve's hand resting on her lower back. Tony and Pepper are actually sitting at the island with food in front of them, talking with Steve and Natasha. Thor is seated beside them with a truly massive pile of frozen waffles in front of him, nodding every once in a while as they speak. Jane's beside him with a stack of papers in one hand and a pen in the other. A plate with two pop-tarts and a cup of coffee are sitting next to her, probably untouched. Dr. Banner is sitting next to Jane, looking over his own pile of papers and commenting about something to Jane now and then which brings her focus away from her work for a second to look at his before returning to her own.

Darcy waves at them as she enters and heads straight for the coffee machine with the hopes of being able to at least get a few sips of caffeinated goodness before the questions start. All conversation seems to stop as soon as she's in the room for everyone except Jane who's still scribbling on her papers madly, completely oblivious to the tension in the room.

For several minutes, no one says anything as Darcy pours her own coffee with Clint doing the same beside her. Neither one takes anything in their coffee most of the time, though Darcy does every once in a while when she really needs a sugar boost. Their motions are normal, part of the same routine they follow whenever Clint is home.

Clint turns away from the coffee maker first, depositing his cup on the counter before moving to make them both some breakfast. Darcy takes a few extra seconds, attempting to delay her inevitable face-off with the rest of the super-hero team. Finally, the eyes staring into her back become too creepy and she turns to face everyone. Jane's raised her head by now, taking in the way everyone except Clint is staring at Darcy with a furrowed brow.

"Did I miss something?" asks Jane uncertainly. Her eyes travel to Darcy and she makes a cute clueless face that arises every once in a while when she's not completely clear about what's happening.

Darcy sighs and nods but Tony speaks up before she can say anything more. "Yeah, the presence of a S.H.I.E.L.D spy in our home."

Okay, that so isn't what she was expecting. "Excuse me?"

Even Clint bristles at the implication. "Watch it, Tony."

"Why should I?" asks Tony in his normal irritated fashion. "What reason could Darcy have for leaving out an important detail like being Coulson's kid?"

Darcy cringes a little and looks down at her coffee with a deep breath. Yeah, this wasn't what she expected. "Tony, I'm not a spy. Dad never asks about what happens over here and I don't tell him. Not unless its directly related to me and I've never said anything that could get anyone in trouble. Even when you were playing with that highly unstable explosive compound that you still swear up and down was safe even though it spontaneously combusted on your workbench."

"Then how'd he find out about it, hm?" sneers Tony. "Someone had to tell him."

Natasha raises her hand mildly. "That would be me, Tony. And I told him so you wouldn't be allowed to put that compound in any of Clint's arrows."

"But I stabilized it!" insists Tony, even as everyone else rolls there eyes or gives him a 'really?' look. "What, I did!"

"Sure you did," replies Darcy as she moves to lean on the counter beside Steve. "And I'm secretly Fury in disguise." The joke falls flat as everyone gives her a weary look that says they clearly aren't capable of taking jokes from her right now. Great. "I'm kidding guys. Geez, is the idea of Phil being my Dad really that shocking?"

Jane, who'd fallen silent during the conversation and who's jaw was currently hanging a little open, manages to sputter out a response. "Yes! Darcy, are you serious? Agent Coulson is your _father_?"

"Yeah," admits Darcy with a sigh. "We established this yesterday. Or, rather, he did after apparently deciding that letting people know he has a kid isn't tantamount to getting me killed."

Silence descends on the kitchen again as everyone gives her wide-eyed looks of shock. Even Clint stops what he's doing to look at her, though he looks more sad than confused. Darcy just takes a sip of her coffee, forcing herself not to squirm and to keep her actions casual. Natural.

She doesn't speak until her cup is back on the table. "That's why he kept it a secret, in case anyone was wondering. He wasn't using me as a spy or ashamed of me, he was afraid I was going to get hurt or killed if he told anyone about me."

Everyone except Pepper and Jane looks a little abashed, including Tony who never looks apologetic for anything. Apparently, all of them thought her dad had some ulterior motive for keeping her existence a secret. "Wow, this shows how much you all think of Dad."

"It's not like that Darcy," insists Clint as he walks over to wrap an arm around her shoulders. "Honestly, I'm not sure any of us gave much thought to why Phil didn't talk about you except Tony. Well," he glances at Natasha who looks a little more embarrassed than the rest, "I don't think most of us did."

"You all still momentarily thought my dad would use me as a spy," points out Darcy with a faint glare. "That's pretty bad."

Clint sighs and shifts to rubbing her back softly. "It makes some sense, even you have to admit that."

"That doesn't mean its true," sighs Darcy as she leans against him. "Dad wouldn't do that. He's been unwilling to tell anyone about me out of fear I'll get killed or hurt for years. I don't know what brought him around now, but I'm guessing it has to do with us getting married. Whatever the reason, he still isn't gonna want it going around that he has a kid. Honestly, the fact that he told you all is a testament to how much he _trusts_ you guys."

"Plus everyone thought he had a crush on you," adds Pepper with a face somewhere between amusement and unease.

Darcy's face devolves into disgust quickly. "Oh god, that's disgusting! And might be what made him tell you all. Also, disgusting. Ew."

Pepper shrugs. "In everyone else's defense, his actions did lend themselves to that assumption when no other obvious reason was present."

"I guess but god, no. Just, no." Darcy shutters beside Clint and takes another sip of her coffee. "Ugh."

Clint chuckles a little and kisses the top of her head. "Well, at least this explains why you never offered to introduce me to your dad."

"It wasn't exactly necessary," confirms Darcy. "And it would have been awkward given Dad was still fighting me about telling you that little detail two weeks ago after Molly was born." 

"He seemed drawn when I talked to him about it," agrees Pepper as she pokes at her eggs a little before looking up at Darcy with a furrowed brow. "Though, that does beg the question of where your mother is."

Darcy shifts a little uneasily and looks down at her coffee. "Things with Mom are...complicated."

Steve's brow furrows in confusion. "So your mom isn't present?"

"No," confirms Darcy quietly. "She's kinda, in a way, dead-ish when it comes to me. Like I said, its complicated."

Pepper hums and changes the topic quickly. "So, have you met this cellist of your father's? He's rather fond of her."

Tony snorts beside her. "Yeah, because it can't be awkward to see your dad replacing your mom." Pepper smacks Tony in the back of the head, causing him to jump with a rather startled 'hey! what was that for?' despite the 'that was beyond inappropriate' look from Pepper.

Across from them, Darcy smiles a little. "It's not actually as awkward as you'd think, mostly because Dad isn't really _replacing_ Mom so much as...winning her back." Everyone's eyes are back on her, but she just gives them the 'what?' look in return that Coulson often gives when he isn't inclined to explain something further.

Steve rubs his head like he's in a bit of pain. "Wait, your mom is dead but at the same time your dad is winning her back by dating a cellist? I may have been frozen for 70 years but I'm still pretty sure that's impossible."

Darcy sighs and looks up towards the ceiling. "Mom isn't dead, she's kinda dead-ish for all intensive purposes in terms of her involvement in my life. Like I said, its complicated but I guess the easiest way to explain this is that Mom was in an accident, lost her memory, got transplanted by S.H.I.E.L.D. for her safety, and recently Dad and her re-met and started dating."

"That sounds like a bad soap opera," grumbles Natasha as she stares at Darcy in disbelief. "Are you serious?"

"Completely," replies Darcy with a sigh. "It sounds crazy but that's the kind of thing that happens when both your parents work for S.H.I.E.L.D."

"Both your...your Mom was a S.H.I.E.L.D agent too!" exclaims Steve with wide-eyed shock. "They let S.H.I.E.L.D agents do that?" 

"Did," corrects Darcy with a shrug. "When S.H.I.E.L.D first started, there weren't divisions like there are now. Everyone worked with everyone else and because it was a secret organization, people who worked together often had really close personal relationships. Mom and Dad were no different, especially because they were both part of the first S.H.I.E.L.D team ever in existence _and _they were two of the 15 founding members of S.H.I.E.L.D."

Jane's wide-eyed shock is almost comical. "Two of the founding...your parents helped _found_ S.H.I.E.L.D.?" 

"Yep," confirms Darcy cheerfully. "They worked side by side with Nick for years. Well, Mom _did_. Dad obviously still does."

Natasha tilts her head sightly, wide-eyed and clearly surprised. "Who was your mother? Or is?"

"Was," corrects Darcy a bit sadly as she turns to look towards the ceiling. "She doesn't remember doing any of this or me. JARVIS?"

"Yes Miss. Lewis?"

"Can you activate the holo-projector-thing in the kitchen island and pull up the S.H.I.E.L.D file on Penelope Dawnstar?"

"Of course Miss Lewis," replies JARVIS over the sound of Natasha and Clint both coking on air. No one else looks particularly phased, but none of them know anything about the original founders of S.H.I.E.L.D either. "I can't seem to access the full file. It appears they require some form of security clearance."

Darcy pauses for a second before responding. "DDC34-66-81. That code should give you access to just that file." The file in question flashes to life on the holo-projector in the counter a moment later, flickering into focus for everyone to see.

The file itself doesn't look like a standard S.H.I.E.L.D file, though it's clearly an older version of the personnel file. The words 'decommissioned and relocated' are stamped across the front page, but anyone looking can tell the file is incredibly thick. A photo is attached, the image portraying a dark-haired young women no older than 25 with blue eyes. Her features are composed in a serious look, but there's a hit of a smile and touch of humor in the glint of her eyes. It's very much the same look that Coulson gets when he knows something you don't. Which is pretty much all the time, so his standard facial expression minus the usual smirk.

The pages following read like a spy novel on crack. Her weapons training covers most of the weapons spectrum that was available to, well, anyone. A random notation lists her as being an excellent cello player. By comparison, she also has a number of 'disobeyed a direct order' and 'recklessly endangered her life' comments. It kind of reads like Clint and Natasha's files if you meshed the two together and took out about half the reports. Most of the reports list Coulson as a co-conspirator and partner, as do the vast majority of write-ups in her file. Apparently, she'd been a bit of a trouble maker but based on her mission success rate she was also a damn good agent.

"Shit, does Phil's file read like this?" asks Clint with wide-eyed surprise.

Darcy shrugs. "I'd imagine for the most part it does, but probably thicker and with fewer citations. I think the write-up's stopped after Mom's accident. I don't think he's done anything worth getting written up for since I was at least six."

"How do you know he was written up when you were six?" questions Pepper with a curious eyebrow.

"'Cause that was when he spent a week teaching me to throw knives like I'd been asking him to," explains Darcy with a shrug as she refills her coffee cup. "He was home the whole week, wasn't hurt, _and_ didn't have a mountain of paper work. Plus I heard Mom ream him out for 'beating the crap out of that asshole of an Agent and leaving her with all the paperwork before she could do the same to him'." Clint raises an eyebrow at her in askance but she just shrugs. "Don't ask me, I never really found out the whole story. All I know is someone was hitting on Mom and they did it in front of Dad."

"That'll get you beat up," mutters Tony as one of his arms wraps around Pepper's waist protectively. "No guy likes to see his girlfriend get hit on."

Darcy nods. "By that point Mom and Dad were married, but I can see how it would still be bad."

"Worse," corrects Tony. "It's worse to see your wife get hit on, especially if its pissing her off."

Darcy opens her mouth to say something else but Clint cuts in before she can. "Wait a minute, go back to the part about Phil teaching you to throw knives."

She blinks at Clint for a moment before her brow furrows. "Dad taught me to throw knives when I was six. What about it?"

Natasha snorts. "I'm certain your mother enjoyed that."

"She didn't react how you'd think," assures Darcy with a touch of a smirk.

"_Alright Darcy, now just pull your arm back and-" instructed Phil Coulson as he guided his daughter's arm into the correct position, a dull throwing knife clutched between the tiny fingers of her right hand._

"_Phil," greeted Penelope as she entered the living room behind them, footsteps pausing just inside the door. Darcy didn't need to see her mother to know the woman's eyebrow was cocked._

"_Pen," greeted Phil in return without looking up at his wife._

_Penelope moved closer until she was standing behind Phil and to the left of Darcy. "What are you doing?"_

"_Teaching Darcy to throw knives," replied Phil in his usual casual monotone._

"_I see that," stated Penelope in the same causal way as Phil. A shifting sound that told Darcy her mother's arms would now be crossed. Keeping her arm in position, she looked back towards her mother who was staring at them both with a straight face. Her eyes were glinting in amusement though. "What I'm wondering is why you are teaching our daughter to throw knives."_

"_She asked to learn," replied Phil in a tone that suggested six year olds asked to learn how to throw knives every day._

_Penelope shrugged and turned away. "Fair enough. Darcy, use your left hand. Not your right."_

"_Yes Mommy," replied Darcy as she dropped her right arm and shifted the blade to her left hand._

_Phil's brow furrowed a little before he shot a cocked eyebrow at his wife. "Why her left hand?"_

"_She's left-eye dominate," explained Penelope as she began shifting through something that was probably the mail behind them. "Also, for the record, knife throwing isn't really an in-door activity."_

_Phil shrugged. "There's nothing breakable out. How do you know Darcy is left-eye dominate?"_

"_True," agreed Penelope with a shrug. "She found one of our guns last week, so I gave her a quick course in gun safety. While I was at it, I had her do the eye-dominance test. The one with her hands."_

_Phil's brow furrowed again. "She found one of our guns?"_

"_An unloaded one," assured Penelope easily. "It just seemed prudent to give her a quick lesson on the subject anyway."_

"_Good move," agreed Phil._

_Darcy cut in before her parents could go any further in their discussion. "Daddy, you're supposed to be showing me how to throw knives. Not discussing gun safety with Mommy."_

_Penelope smirked a little at Phil, who smiled fondly back at her. "She sounds like you, Pen."_

"_Only when you get distracted Phil," pointed out Penelope as she put on the coffee pot._

_Phil sighed and refocused on his daughter. "Alright sweetie, let's try this again. Now, pull your arm back..."_

Everyone is just staring at Darcy like she's insane as her story ends. She blinks back at them with the same bland expression that Coulson always uses when he's trying to freak people out by looking like a robot. To her delight, Tony looks more than a little uncomfortable. Serves him right for attacking her character like he did earlier. Jackass.

The sound of an elevator opening into the lounge draw's everyone's attention to the doorway separating the kitchen from the sitting room and cuts off any immediate comments. They aren't worried per say, the elevators require a pass-code and clearance from JARVIS before being allowed up onto this floor. For JARVIS to have made no announcements about their visitor indicates the person is permitted to visit.

Casual footsteps echo through the doorway for a moment before Phil Coulson appears, baby carrier in one hand and a diaper bag slung over his shoulder. His suit is impeccable and his expression is set in the same blank look that he always wears. He even manages to sport the large diaper bag like its the latest fashion rather than a practical necessity.

Clint takes a moment to attempt to reconcile this image with the one he has permanently featured in his mind of what his boss looks like. And has absolutely no luck. Neither, judging from the other's expressions, does anyone else apparently. Well, except Darcy who's just looking at him like its a normal day.

"Hey Dad," greets Darcy, the name falling from her mouth naturally as she walks towards him and Molly.

Phil nods before setting the baby carrier on the ground so Darcy can reach her daughter. There's a slight softness to his eyes as he greets Darcy, a touch of love that isn't usually there. "Hey sweetheart. You sleep well?"

"Better than I have in the last two weeks," confirms Darcy with a grin as she slides Molly out of the carrier. The little girl reaches for Darcy immediately, one of her small hands coming to rest against Darcy's cheek. Darcy takes the small hand in her own, caressing Molly's palm with her thumb in smooth strokes. "Hey little one, were you a good girl for Grandpa?"

A smile slides over Phil's face as his eyes focus on both Darcy and Molly. "She was an angel, isn't that right Molly?"

Molly giggles a little in Darcy's arms and turns her eyes towards Phil. There's a recognition there that most infants wouldn't have, Clint's sure of it. Darcy mentioned their daughter was far more aware than he gave her credit for, and its moments like this that really drive that idea home.

As if sensing his thoughts, Molly's eyes shift to him and the hand Darcy isn't holding reaches towards him. He moved over to both his women with a smile, taking Molly's hand in his own while wrapping his free hand around Darcy's waist. "Hey kiddo, how was grandpa's?" He chokes a bit over the last word, but still manages it. Darcy shoots him a proud, and slightly relieved, smile while Phil just nods.

For a moment, the room is silent except for the sound of Phil rocking a little bit back on his heels and dropping forward again. None of the other Avenger's say a word, apparently content to wait and see if Clint survives this first encounter with his boss since finding out the man is going to soon be family. For his part, Clint thinks he's handling it well. Phil twitches slightly, displaying a few ticks he rarely shows unless he's trying to appear non-threatening. Which is very, very bad.

"Well, I need to get to work," states Phil, finally breaking the silence. "Paperwork Mountains and all that."

Darcy giggles a little and shakes her head. "Really Dad? You're never going to let me forget about that are you?"

"What? It was cute," insists Phil with a soft smile before he moves to hug Darcy, dropping a kiss on her forehead along with Molly's.

"Yeah, it was cute when I said it at 5," mutters Darcy, though her tone indicates she's not actually upset.

Phil just gives her one last, patient smile before turning for the door. As he's walking through he adds over his shoulder, "Oh, and Agent Barton? I'd like to have a word with you later today. Say, 3ish in my office." He doesn't add anything else, just walks out the door.

Looming silence echos through the room, speaking of the doom that Clint knows he's going to face at three. Apparently, he groans as well because Darcy leans up to kiss his cheek reassuringly. "Don't look so worried, I'm sure its nothing. Dad just probably wants to talk about something work related." 

"Bullshit," shorts Tony from across the counter. Darcy blinks, having ignored them for so long she forgot they were actually there. "When a girl's dad asks to talk to you, it's so he can put your balls on a chopping block." 

Darcy rolls her eyes and drops onto a stool with Molly. "Except Clint proposed. I don't think Dad is too inclined to threaten him at this point. Besides, Dad _gave_ his approval back in New Mexico. He doesn't have any right or reason to retract it."

"It's not about approval Darcy," explains Steve. "It's about making sure the fella your getting hitched to is gonna treat you right. And making sure that same fella knows what'll happen if he doesn't."

A faint smile touched Darcy's lips. "Steve, if Clint hurts me, it isn't Dad he has to worry about."

"Darce, Coulson would probably send me to Siberia if I hurt you," points out Clint gently, one hand stroking up and down her back. "Hell, if I hurt you somehow I'd _request_ reassignment to Siberia. It'd be the least I deserved."

"Assuming you could still _function_ after I got through with you." The look in Darcy's eyes is there to serve as a reminder. Phil isn't the dangerous one in this family, she is. Her powers make her more dangerous than anyone present, save perhaps the infant in her arms.

Clint's a little surprised by the subtle threat, but recognizes it for what it is: a reminder not an actual threat. Kind of like when Natasha gives him the look that promises he'll be in pain the next day. She isn't actually going to _break _any of his bones, but the point is that she_ could_ if she felt the need to.

Everyone except Clint is giving Darcy some degree of space or a look of concern, but no one comments. She doesn't talk about what she can do, just lets the others live in blissful ignorance. Clint's included in that group, though he understands better than everyone else. He knows that what she tells him barely scratches the surface of her world.

"Well, I have work to do," cuts in Tony suddenly, standing up. "Darce, don't hurt anyone while I'm in my shop. Bruce, care to join me?" Bruce shrugs and stands, exiting with Tony, who's already talking a mile a minute about something or another.

Jane glances at her watch and mutters something about having to run as well, darting out of the kitchen with a kiss to Thor's cheek. Thor stands before Jane has even cleared the room and wonders after her with a generalized good-bye to the group. No one's surprised by this. Pepper leaves almost immediately as well, her cell in her hand before she clears the kitchen. Natasha excuses both herself and Steve by saying something about more sleep and nearly dragging the blushing super-soldier from the room. Two guesses what those two will be doing.

This left Darcy and Clint alone in the kitchen with Molly. Almost as soon as the others are gone, Clint drops his forehead against Darcy's shoulder while wrapping one arm around her waist with a groan. In her arms, Molly makes a soft sound that Darcy knows means she's hungry. Without preamble, Darcy tugs down her shirt and presses Molly to her chest. She knows Phil would have fed Molly, but sometimes the infant doesn't care for formula in the morning's. She'll take it any other time, but mornings seem to be for breast feeding only.

Clint reaches out with his free hand to stroke Molly's head, his own shifting so his chin is propped on her shoulder. "So, on a scale of 1 to 10, one being least and ten being most, how fucked am I?"

"One. We haven't been able to have sex since Molly was born," jokes Darcy. She knows what he means but also feels like he's being ridiculous about the whole thing.

"I meant with your Dad," groans Clint with a poke to her side.

Darcy jumps a bit and shifts Molly. "Dude, if you're fucking my dad then we have a problem."

"Darce," moans Clint unhappily. "Be serious for a minute here."

She sighs heavily and turns her head to look at him with calm blue eyes frighteningly similar to Phil's. "You're really worried about this." Clint gives her a 'no shit' look that she responds to with an eye-roll. "Seriously Clint? Don't worry. Dad isn't going to threaten you."

"You really think that?" asks Clint hopefully.

Darcy shakes her head. "See previous statements. I've made at least two this morning to the effect of _he gave me permission to fuck you_. What more do you need?"

"Darce, he gave you permission to _date_ me, not have a kid with me or marry me," points out Clint uneasily. "That changes things a little."

"Not really," assures Darcy as Molly finishes up. She shifts the infant to Clint, who burps her without a second thought while Darcy fixes her shirt. "Look, I'm not gonna pretend that I know what Dad wants. But I know that he doesn't disapprove of us doing what we're doing. Hell, I think he's happy about it on some level. It means that he's not the only one looking out for me and he knows your a good guy who'll treat me right. What more could he seriously want?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?" asks Clint with a sigh as he cradles Molly. His eyes take in the infant who's currently dozing in his arms, tiny fists pressed to her chest. The soft look of absolute adoration that crosses his face as he gazes at his daughter is enough to bring tears to Darcy's eyes.

"Clint, look at me," murmurs Darcy softly, drawing his gaze to her. The look in his eyes doesn't change. It's as if he's looking at his whole world as he stares between her and their daughter. In that moment, she knows he's safe from any form of the 'Wraith of Phil Coulson'. "Dad isn't going to do anything to you, promise. Seriously, he knew about Molly before you did because I needed to know the signs of pregnancy and Dad was the best person I could think to ask. And he didn't say a damn negative thing about you. Instead, he wanted to know when I planned to tell you. There was this look in his eyes when he said that, like he knew exactly what your reaction would be and that he wouldn't have to do any prompting. Trust me, you'll be fine."

Clint smiles softly and nods, dropping a kiss to her forehead in thanks. He's not about to tell her that he's not really sure she's right, but he'll pretend like he completely believes her for the time being. Which he kind of does.

"Besides," adds Darcy with a wicked grin, "it could be worse. At least Mom isn't going to be there too."

_Very true_, agrees Clint mentally._ That is very, very true._

* * *

><p><p>

**So, show of hands, is anyone interested in learning who Darcy inherited her powers from? Also, yes, her mother will be coming back. Much to Clint (and really everyone except Phil, Darcy, and Fury's) horror. **


	22. Prompt: Risk

**Darcy makes her move. Warning: this is unbetaed. All mistakes are my own. Standard warning about buggy mouse pads and missing paragraphs applies. If anyone thinks something got accidentally deleted, let me know. I have read over this, but that doesn't mean mistakes can only happen during the initial writing process.**

**This is the sequel to 'Again'.  
><strong>

**Enjoy everyone.**

**Prompt: **Risk

**From: ** **under 50-word prompt (yes, I do intent to use all 50 words)**

**Pairing: **Darcy/Clint

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><p>Another two weeks pass before Darcy gets the chance to see Clint again. Ironically, it's in the same bar as the first time they met. Also ironically, it's under similar circumstances but with two notable differences: the bar isn't as packed and Darcy doesn't feel like her skin is going to disconnect from her body and crawl away. Both are good signs.<p>

This time, Darcy's aware when Clint enters the bar with a few other agents. Even though he hangs back a little more and kind of slips inside. She subtly tracks his energy through the room, keeping her focus on the markers that make up his specific signature. Strength, colors, emotions, depth, over-all feeling. There is a combination that is distinctly him and it's easy to spot among the others present. Everyone is an individual of course, but some people are easier to see than others. Clint is one of the easier ones.

The glass in front of her is nearly empty and she downs the rest for courage before heading to the bar. Her eyes watch him subtly as she weaves around the other patrons, glass in her hands. Somehow, leaving glasses on the table for others to clean up in the small bar always feels wrong.

Reaching the counter, she places the glass on the polished wood and waits for the bartender currently on shift to notice her. It takes less than five seconds. She wished it took longer.

The guy currently on shift is young, probably about her age and what most people would probably consider physically handsome. He's also a dick; she can see it clearly written in his energy signature. Its one of the easiest factors to spot, tinting the aura with an uncomfortable tingle.

So of course she's not particularly surprised when the first words out of his mouth sound like the beginning of a pick-up line. "Hey baby, what can I do ya for?"

_Great_, thinks Darcy with a sigh as she pushes her glass towards the guy. "Just wanted to drop this off." She'd been planning to order another drink, but she doesn't want to hang around at the bar longer than necessary now. Mentally, she reaches out towards Clint's energy.

Sadly, the bartender doesn't drop it. He shots her what's probably supposed to be a charming look (and might be if she couldn't see the disgusting color of orange his aura is turning) and reaches for the glass. "So another for the lovely lady?"

"Not tonight," corrects Darcy, her eyes darting up to the mirror over the bar as she attempts to locate Clint in a more physical sense. More people have come in since she entered and there's a limit to what even she can do without focusing heavily on her task. "I've got other things to do."

She's intent on trying to locate Clint visually, fighting to maintain her barriers so as not to be over-whelmed by the number of people now in the enclosed space. So she doesn't notice when the guy reaches for her until his hand is covering her own on the glass. The physical contact breaks her concentration and makes her attempt to pull away sharply (both by impulse and the fact that she just doesn't want to be in skin contact with this creep).

His hand tightens on her's, his voice trying to sooth her. "Hey, easy there babe. Chill out."

"Let. Me. Go." Her words are sharp, punctuated with the tone her mother would use if someone pissed her off enough. Throwing more energy into her barriers, she forces herself to calm down and glare at the guy instead of socking him in the face.

The guy just gives her a grin. "Maybe I will, if you give me your number. I'd like to text you later. I've asked around, it sounds like you mostly spend your time sitting in the middle of the desert. C'mon, a little interesting conversation could keep the boredom at bay." Yes, because the fact that he's practically begun stalking her isn't creepy enough to make her want to avoid him.

"Or you could just let her go and I won't have to beat the crap out of you for harassing my girlfriend," suggests a deeper male voice from behind Darcy. A different cups around her shoulder, thankfully covered by her sweater, while it's twin drops on her other side to grab the hands-y bartender's wrist.

The guy narrows his eyes at Clint and tries to pull his arm away without letting go of her's. "Hey man, back off. I saw her first. Plus, I can have you thrown out for harassing the staff."

She can't see his face, but Darcy is pretty sure one or both of Clint's eyebrows are currently raised. "Really. So, does that mean you're harassing the patrons then? All I did was grab your wrist, just like you grabbed hers."

Scowling, the guy tightens his grip on her hand a little. "I didn't threaten her. Just asked for her number."

"Two words: attempted coercion," growls Darcy. "Now, let me go before I taser your ass and leave you twitching back there with a note on your forehead for the police explaining what happened."

The dick's eyes flew back to her and for a moment he almost appeared to be considering if she would really do it or not. When she not-so-subtly reached for her purse though, his hand released hers quickly and Clint released his wrist without a fuss. Clint's arm continues to rest around her shoulders as she moved away from the bar, the newly freed hand pressed into the palm of her other one. She just hoped the slimy feeling went away quickly. Every once in a while, it was a pain to expunge foreign energy from her skin.

She thought she heard the guy say something behind them, but her mind was focused on getting out of the bar. The skin contact had heightened her sensitivity to energy, so what had before been an annoying, noisy hum she wanted to escape had turned into an over-whelming roar that she needed to get away from. Immediately.

To her surprise, Clint follows her outside, his arm remaining around her shoulders the whole time. Not that she's complaining. Clint's energy is easy to handle for reasons she can't identify. Plus, she'd rather he follow her outside so she can thank him for helping her deal with the bartender than have to hope she runs into him again some time in the future.

They reach the parking lot before either one of them says a word. To Darcy's surprise, Clint is the one to speak first. "You alright?"

Darcy nods slowly, eye's rising to meet his own. "Yeah, fine. Thanks, for the help in there. Damn bastard surprised me when he grabbed my hand."

Clint chuckles and nods, his hand not moving from her shoulder. "Yeah, I kinda figured when you didn't pull out your taser within the first two seconds of him refusing to let you go."

"Actually, I was gonna punch him. The taser thing was a bluff." At his raised eyebrow, she explains. "You can't taser someone who's established physical contact with you: you'll get shocked too."

"Okay, so why bluff?" asks Clint, his head canting slightly to the side.

Darcy makes a mental note that he's cute when curious. A part of her mind wonders if he's actually aware he does that. "Most guys aren't threatened by the idea of being punched by a girl."

He snorts slightly. "Then most guys are idiots."

A smile tugs at the corner of Darcy's mouth. "I'll assume you've experienced the flaws in this logic first hand?"

"Too many times for comfort," admits Clint with a sigh. "My partner tends to enjoy beating the crap out of me during training."

For a moment, Darcy's confused. Her confusion mostly disappears less than half a second later when she remembers what Clint's job is, but she still feels the need to ask her next question. "Work partner, right?"

"Yeah," confirms Clint with a grin. "She's a real fire-ball when pissed."

Darcy grins in return. "She'd probably have to be in order to work with a bunch of jack-booted thugs like you guys."

Clint outright laughs at that. "She amasses blackmail. That helps."

"As every smart girl should," nods Darcy sagely, taking on the voice of someone pretending to know what they are talking about. Of course, her father and mother taught her the value of good blackmail when she was five and they were dealing with a nosy neighbor who thought they weren't good parents. A few photos of the man's bondage kink that had him partnering with a woman who wasn't his wife was sufficient for making him shut up.

For a moment, neither of them says anything as they just kind of look at each other. There's no 'ah-hah!' moment in their looks, just simple acknowledgment that they are both interested in the same way. With that in mind, along with the potential ramifications of the risk she's about to take, Darcy makes her move. She leans up, resting some of her weight against his arm, and kisses him.

Its a relief when he returns the action, the arm around her shoulder's tightening and his free hand reaching out to rest on her hip. For a second, her powers flare and she just knows his memories are sliding into the cube in her mind her mom helped her construct when she was five. The feeling fades into the back of her mind though, disappearing within seconds as Clint's whole life finishes downloading into her brain. Well, his life as he saw it.

Then, she's free. Free to enjoy the press of his mouth to hers. Free to focus on the way that his one hand is squeezing her shoulder gently and the other tightens on her hip when she runs her tongue over his lower lip. There may or may not have been some faint growling on his end as well.

He pulls back after nearly a minute, resting his forehead against hers so their eyes can meet easily. His eyes are a touch cloudy with lust but there's a focus there that leaves her feeling almost exposed, like she's the one who's just had her life story downloaded into his brain. Their both breathing heavily, which means neither one can really talk.

None the less, he takes a gulp of air before pushing words out of his throat. "Should I assume that's your way of accepting my potential offer to a potential date?"

"Hell yes," mutters Darcy in return.

"Good," returns Clint as he leans close to her lips again, "because that has to have been the most intense kiss I've ever had and I'd be really sad if we couldn't repeat the experience."

She grunts a little in response and kisses him again, making a mental note in the process to be careful about her powers in the future. Feeding someone's passion can be very, very dangerous.

* * *

><p><strong>So, for those of you wondering (if anyone is), the last bit is a reference for Darcy's ability to manipulate and cycle the emotional energy of anyone she has physical contact with. Basically, she can increase how strong an emotion feels by drawing the emotional energy from the person she's in contact with, enhancing it, and feeding that enhanced emotional energy back into the other person. It's basically a positive version of what she did to Loki. Minus the fire.<strong>


	23. Prompt: Argument

**Another prompt done. I do have chapters for some of the other stories written, but they need to be edited before I put anything up. Also, this piece is un-betaed (though I looked it over myself), so any errors are mine. Hopefully you guys find this funny.**

**Also, I wanted to quickly thank everyone who's read, reviewed, and/or favorited this story. Seeing those messages lets me know people are still reading and encourages me to write more of them (when I have time). **

**Anyway, enjoy everyone!**

**Illusinia**

**Prompt: **argument/fight

**From: **avengers-tables .livejournal **under 50-word prompt (yes, I do intent to use all 50 words)**

**Pairings: **Clint/Darcy near the end, Phil/OFC

* * *

><p>"Hello?" asked Darcy as she answered the phone in Phil Coulson's office. Coulson was in a meeting with the Avenger's at the moment and she'd opted to hang in his office while waiting for her own meeting time with him.<p>

It was agreed between her and her dad that it would be better for them to meet in private with the final report over what exactly was _wrong_ with the logistics division's setup that still needed repairing. She'd spent the last few days going through ever piece of equipment with her team and ferreting out all the problems. Most had been simple access issues that could be easily fixed by getting everyone the proper clearance. The rest was technological though and would require a lot more work though. Hence, the meeting. Well, when he got back.

"I'm looking for Phil," replied a female voice. One that sent Darcy's stomach plummeting.

"Um, he's not in at the moment," replied Darcy uneasily. "I'm his secretary. Would you like to leave a message?" It couldn't be who she thought it was. She had to be wrong. Against her will, her heart started pounding.

The woman on the phone chuckled. "First day?"

Darcy's heart beat harder. "Kinda. Just switched departments." Physically, she winced. Even if this wasn't who she thought (hoped?), she felt guilty for lying.

"Well, it'll get better," assured the woman. "Trust me, I remember my first day at the orchestra. It was nerve-wracking."

_Fuck. Fuckity fucking fuck. Why is she calling Dad?_ "Y-yeah, I'm sure it'll get better. Er, sorry, I didn't get your name."

"Penelope," replied the woman. "Penelope Lewis. And you are?"

Darcy closed her eyes against the shaky breath and flutter of her heart. Along with the burst of anger. Oh, her father was dead. "I'm Darcy." Realizing a last name was probably expected, she used the first one she could think of that wasn't her actual one. "Darcy Barton." She'd consider why that had been her first thought later.

After she'd murdered her dad.

"Well, Darcy, can you please ask Phil to call me after 3?" asked Penelope. "He's supposed to meet me after the performance tonight."

Oh, he was definitely dead. "Are you his girlfriend?" She didn't realized the words had actually made it out of her mouth until she heard Penelope chuckling.

"Something like that," admitted Penelope. On her end of the phone, there was a shout of some kind. "And that would be the sound of my angry conductor informing me I have to get back to the pit. Can you give Phil my message?"

"No problem," replied Darcy quickly. She'd give him the message alright.

The woman's smile was in her voice. A smile Darcy could picture in her mind. It wasn't really a smile so much as a smirk, but it was a soft smirk. Like the kind Pepper would give Tony when he was attempting to be sweet and failing. "Thanks. And relax, it'll make it easier to adjust. Trust me, everyone gives the new girl a break."

Before Darcy could respond, she was met with a dial tone. Somewhere in her mind, she recognized the feeling of her heart breaking a little at the loss of contact. Another part of her was beyond furious that this was the first contact she'd had while her father had clearly been in contact before, likely extensively.

Carefully, she set the phone back on its cradle and lowered her head to her arms. A shaky exhale drew her attention to the tears pricking at the edges of her eyes and for a second, she allowed the water to hover there. A reminder that she wasn't her father or her mother, that she still had the emotional capacity to feel pain. That pain was gone in a heartbeat, converted to fuel for her anger.

Anger was what she used to push herself to her feet and storm from the room. It was the energy that propelled her down the halls of S.H.I.E.L.D and straight to the meeting room where the Avengers were gathered. She could hear Tony through the door, making some sort of wise crack or another. When Clint responded with his own laugh, Darcy knew the meeting was done. Which is why she allowed herself to practically throw open the meeting room door and storm inside.

"Hey Darce, what's going on?" asked Tony as he spun to look at her. How he'd known it was her was anyone's guess. She was willing to bet JARVIS had alerted him to her storming.

Darcy didn't say a word, just glared at her father meaningfully.

Phil Coulson merely raised his eyebrow in return. "Miss Lewis?"

"You got a call while you were out," replied Darcy tersely. She didn't have to tell him who had called, the way his face paled slightly told her he knew exactly who called.

"Darce?" asked Clint uneasily, eyes dating between his boss and girlfriend. "Is something wrong?"

Phil cut in before he could reply. "Meeting dismissed. I'd like to ask all of you to please leave so I may speak to Miss Lewis in private." His voice gave nothing away to the untrained ear, but Darcy knew Clint and Natasha picked up on the same faint undertone she did. The one that said he was clearly not looking forward to this discussion because he'd made one of his few fuck-ups. And she could testify, he did fuck up sometimes. Usually because of a misplaced protective instinct.

Both S.H.I.E.L.D Agents shot a curious look at their boss and concerned look at her before standing to leave. Clint paused by her side on the way out to give her a half-hug and kiss on the cheek while Natasha merely squeezed her shoulder in support before departing. Everyone else edged around her as they left, clearly not wanting to face her wrath. Her mothers glare was a very dangerous weapon, and one that she proudly wielded. Clint was the last to leave, pulling the door shut behind him.

Several minutes passed in silence once the echoing click from the door faded. Phil was still seated at the table, looking at the wood as if it could somehow save him from his daughter's wrath. Darcy stood at the other end of the table, eyes narrowed as she waited impatiently for her father to speak.

"Pen called then?" asked Phil finally as he leaned back in the chair again and leveled his gaze at Darcy. Somehow, he looked as if he'd aged years in the minutes since she entered the room.

Darcy nodded with a sigh and moved down the table to sit beside Phil. Absently, one of her hands came to rest beside his clasped ones. "Yeah. She said to call her after 3. Dad, why didn't you tell me you contacted Mom?"

Phil released his own sigh and shifted so his forehead was resting against his open palm. "I didn't know how to."

"Seriously?" asked Darcy, eyebrow rising in disbelief. "Dad, you give people worse news on a bi-monthly basis. Telling your 24 year old daughter that you're seeing her mom again shouldn't be hard. You basically say it just like that."

A faint smirk rose to Phil's lips as he lifted his head to meet his daughter's eyes. "Darcy, I'm seeing your mother again."

"Well I know that _now_," growled Darcy halfheartedly. "It would have been nice to know when this all started though. How long _has_ this been going on anyway?"

Phil's cheeks turned a little pink. "She cornered me after a performance about three months ago."

Darcy felt a smile rise to her own face. "She asked you, huh?"

"Challenged me to ask her," corrected Phil. "Honestly Darcy, part of why I hadn't told you is that I wasn't sure how much of your mother actually survived. She'd been a spit-fire before, but..."

"You weren't sure she would still be the woman I knew as a child without the S.H.I.E.L.D background," finished Darcy. She'd honestly wondered the same thing. Sure, Penelope Lewis still _sounded_ like her mother, but that kind of thing could be deceiving. "So?"

"She challenged me to ask her on a date," reminded Phil with a faint smile. "What do you think?"

Darcy's smile fell into more of a grin. "She's still the same woman."

Phil nodded, his smile falling again. "I also wasn't sure she would be interested in me as she was before." He paused for a moment, before continuing a quieter voice. "I didn't want to tell you that I was dating her, only for Pen to decide that she wasn't interested."

"Seriously dad?" asked Darcy with a cocked eyebrow. "I don't remember much of Mom from when I was younger, but I do remember how much she loved you. My memory of you and Mom, together, has been the model I've used to judge every relationship I've ever been in. Mom loved you because you are you."

Darcy paused to take a deep breath before plowing on-ward. "I asked Mom once why she chose to marry you..."

* * *

><p>"<em>Mommy, can I ask a question?" asked a 7-year-old Darcy.<em>

_Penelope set the paper's she'd been working on aside on the couch and patted her lap. "You just asked one, so the question's pointless, but I might be convinced to answer another."_

_Darcy giggled and crawled into Penelope's lap. "Why did you marry Daddy?"_

_One of Penelope's eyebrows rose slightly as she stared, curiously, at her daughter. "Alright, I know all kids ask that question, but why the interest?"_

"_'Cause I'm curious," replied Darcy honestly._

"_Curiosity killed the cat," reminded Penelope._

_Darcy rolled her eyes. "That's 'cause the cat wasn't smart enough to duck."_

_Penelope made a wobbly-humming sound in her throat. "Better response than before. Alright, I suppose your question is valid enough to warrant an answer. I married your father because I love him."_

"_Why?" prompted Darcy, her head tilting to the side as she stared up at her mother._

"_Why do I love him?" asked Penelope with a slightly furrowed brow._

_Darcy nodded. "Yeah."_

_Penelope paused for a moment, considering the matter. "I suppose I love him because we just...click."_

"_Click?" repeated Darcy._

_Penelope nodded. "Perfectly."_

"_Because you're partners?"_

"_No..." replied Penelope with a shake of her head and a considerate expression. "We're good partners _because_ we click, but it has nothing to do with us being partners." When Darcy gave her Phil's raised eyebrow, she continued. "It's in the way we can throw comments back and forth at each other without missing a beat. Or the way that your father always knows when something is bothering me and I know when something is wrong with him." A faint smile slid across her lips. "He always lets me fight my own battles, always at my back even if I don't actually need him there. Of course, we fight sometimes. I'd be afraid if we didn't. But nothing seems to be able to come between us, to the point where I sometimes wonder if we live in each others heads."_

_Darcy looked up at her mother, wide-eyed with awe. "Wow. Do you think I'll find someone like that someday?"_

_Penelope smiled and ruffled her daughter's hair. "I'm sure you will, Darcy."_

_The sound of a door opening and shutting caught both Darcy and Penelope's attention. The sound of Phil's voice echoed through the house less than a second later (Darcy would later learn that he called out to them so he didn't get shot by accident, not after the first time). "Pen, Darcy, I'm back."_

_Darcy's head snapped towards the archway that led from the hall into the living room then back up to her mother. Penelope smiled and set her daughter on the ground. "C'mon Darce, lets go see what chaos your dad brought home." Darcy just grinned and darted out of the room._

* * *

><p>Darcy paused as she finished her story. Tears hovered in her eyes, but she wiped them away before they could fall. "Dad, the stuff Mom talked about isn't stuff specific to S.H.I.E.L.D. Yeah, S.H.I.E.L.D. might have fostered some of that relationship by putting you guys in situations that required you trust one another, but that doesn't mean you can't get that relationship back. She loved you for who you are before, and I'm sure she will now too."<p>

Phil smiled at his daughter, tears in his own eyes. "Thank you Darcy."

"No problem Dad," replied Darcy. One of her hands came out to grip his, an action he knew to be a sacrifice on her part because of her powers. "So, when do I get to see her?"

"Can you wait a bit longer?" requested Phil hopefully. "I haven't gotten around to mentioning my daughter yet."

Darcy smiled sadly but nodded. "Its been 16 years. I guess I can wait a few more months."

Phil smiled in return and reached over to hug Darcy. "Thank you Darcy. I promise, it won't be long."

"Take whatever time you need Dad," assured Darcy as she hugged him. "Its a delicate situation, I get that. Just, try not to take _too_ long, alright?"

"I promise," replied Phil as he released her.

Darcy nodded and stood. "Cool. Now, can we have our meeting already? You have a date tonight, and I have plans."

* * *

><p>That night, Darcy's phone vibrated on the table just as Sherlock Holmes dove out the top window of the Parliament Building and into the Thames. Behind her, Clint groaned against her neck where he'd been kissing her and muttered something about work. Darcy reached back and slid her hand up his leg before reaching for her phone. Given it was her phone going off and not his, she wasn't really worried. Plus, it was the ring that told her it was a text message and not a phone call.<p>

It was a text message, as she'd guessed, from a number not in her phone. She knew the number though, it was her father's personal cell. _'"Darcy Barton"? Is there something you want to tell me?'_

Darcy had to bite her lip to keep from laughing as she typed back a response. _'It was the first name I could come up with.'_

_'Please don't scare me like that again.'_ Phil's reply made her smile.

Clint's hands ran up her sides, pulling her to lay back on the couch again. His lips trailed up her neck to her ear, a hand sliding under her shirt. "Darce, is it important?"

"Nope," murmured Darcy as she leaned back to kiss him. "Not in the least."

"Good," growled Clint, rolling her under him. "I have _much_ better ideas about what we can be doing, then."

Darcy definitely didn't disagree.

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry if this seems like an abrupt end, I wasn't sure where else to take this though. Anyway, if anyone has any comments or criticisms, I'd like to hear them. Also, as always, let me know if there are any major mistakes.<strong>


	24. Prompt: Coats

**Darcy and Clint mix up their coats. I apologize in advance for sappy-ish Clint.**

**Prompt: **coats

**From: **avengers-tables .livejournal **under 50-word prompt (yes, I do intent to use all 50 words)**

**Pairings: **Clint/Darcy

* * *

><p>"Darcy?"<p>

Darcy winces as Jane's voice echoed through the lab. She could have sworn the older scientist was asleep. Turning, she pulls her jacket a little tighter around her and offers the older woman a smile which is slightly tinged with unease. "Hey Jane, what are you still doing up?"

"I was going to get some water," replies Jane awkwardly, eyes darting to the clock which proudly declares the time to be 2:30. "Are you just getting in?"

"Yeah, I went out to the bar." Technically, it wasn't a complete lie. She had gone _to _the bar to meet Clint. They'd just never gone inside, opting to head into the desert to 'star gaze'. Suffice to say, Darcy hadn't been paying much attention to the stars.

"Oh." Jane apparently believes her story, because the other woman drops the topic and cuts into the kitchen. Darcy nearly lets out a sigh of relief. "By the way, is that a new jacket?"

And there went her relief straight out the window. Tugging off the jacket, Darcy momentarily horrified as she realizes she is holding Clint's jacket rather than her own. She must have grabbed the wrong one when she climbed out of the car. _Shit. Shit, shit, shit. What do I say? What would dad say? _Well, she knows what her father would say. He'd spin a convincing lie on the spot like he has more times than she probably wants to know about. Too bad she doesn't have his talent for lying.

"No, I must have grabbed the wrong one when I left the bar," replies Darcy, voice somehow completely stable. She can bluff her way out of a paper-bag, but when it comes to minor lies, she's horrible at them. Thankfully, she can actually give this jacket back, so it'll look less suspicious. "I'll take it down to the bar tomorrow and give it to the bartender. See if anyone turned mine in."

Jane nods absently, yawning slightly. "Alright, go get some sleep. We've got a lot to get done before we go out tomorrow night."

"Roger that boss lady," confirms Darcy as she watches Jane disappear out the back door to her trailer. As soon as the older scientist is out of the room, she releases the sigh she's been holding and snatches her phone out of her pocket. Hitting the first number on her contact list, an unlabeled one, she presses the device to her ear.

Clint picks up on the second ring. "Miss me already?"

"Something like that," replies Darcy. "I've got your jacket."

"I noticed that when you went running towards the lab, but you didn't turn around when I called out to you." Clint's voice is tinged with worry, though she's not sure why. "Did you get in trouble?"

"No, I managed to explain it away, but I need to get this back to you tomorrow," explains Darcy.

"I'll see what I can swing. Want to meet at the bar again?"

Darcy absently nods her head, thinking through how she can seek away to return the jacket without anyone seeing Clint. "That'll work. If we meet inside, it'll reinforce my story that I grabbed the wrong jacket at the bar."

"That's what you told her?" asks Clint, a touch of laughter in his voice. "And she believed it?"

"Shut it, Mr. Super-spy," grumbles Darcy halfheartedly. "Not all of us can be pro-liars."

"I know Darcy, I'm just teasing," assures Clint. She can hear him shifting on the other end of the line. It sounds like he might be striping.

A touch of a smile draws across her lips. "Getting ready for bed?"

"Yep," confirms Clint. "A certain dark-haired woman wore me out tonight." The teasing tone in his voice dispels any notion of irritation his words could even remotely carry. "I was actually kinda hoping she'd be willing to wear me out tomorrow night, too."

"Sorry, can't," declines Darcy sadly. "Jane's dragging us out into the middle of nowhere to stare at the stars again."

Clint sighs, the echo of his breath passing over the receiver. "Well, there goes that idea. Text me while you're out there if you can. I'll probably take a guard shift if you're going to be gone."

"You could go out anyway, you know," points out Darcy, frown drawing her lips down a little. Can he really not find anything else to do other than hang around with her?

"I know," assures Clint, lopsided grin audible in his voice. "But it's no fun without you there."

Darcy can feel the corners of her lips quirking up into a sappy smile, but she doesn't fight it too hard. Really, what's the point? "We'll see if I can keep you entertained from out in the desert then. Now, go to sleep. You sound tired."

"Gee, thanks," snarks back Clint even as he yawns.

"Uh-huh, that's what I thought," replies Darcy with a grin. "Night dude."

"Night, Darce," murmurs Clint. "I'll make sure my dreams are of you."


	25. Prompt: Do-over

**Their first date has issues...**

**Prompt: **do-over

**From: ** **under 50-word prompt (yes, I do intent to use all 50 words)**

**Pairing: **Darcy/Clint

* * *

><p>"I swear, this wasn't supposed to happen," insisted Clint as a barrage of gunfire echoes above the edge of the over-turned table they're currently hiding behind.<p>

Beside him, dress torn and blood on her knee from where she scraped it when they went diving for cover, Darcy shot him a 'no shit' look. "I'm pretty sure you had no way of knowing those goons were going to rob _this_ restaurant, two towns over, on this exact date and at this exact time." More gunfire echoed above their heads, causing her to curse. "Any way we can defuse this situation without casualties? It would kinda suck if either of us or someone else got shot tonight."

"Definitely a mood killer," agreed Clint, the sarcastic remark falling thoughtlessly from his mouth. "If I could get a clear shot, I could take one of them out."

Darcy nodded slowly, eyes panning around the room as he spoke. "What would you need to do that?"

Clint shrugged, his own eyes looking for anything that could help them. "A distraction would be good."

"Distraction, right," muttered Darcy, eyes staring off into the distance near the back wall for a moment before her head turns sharply to look at him. "Which guy can you get?"

Raising an eyebrow, he poked his head slightly around the edge of the table only to dart back when one of the goons opened fire again. "Left one."

"Right," confirmed Darcy with a grin as she shifted into a crouch. "One distraction, coming up."

Before Clint can ask what she's talking about, or even stop her, she bolts from behind the table and slides to the relative safety of another one two tables back. Gunfire flares behind her and, for a second, Clint thought she may have been hit with the way she rolls. But she shifts so she can see him again, still protected by the table, gives him a thumbs up, and disappears behind a low wall which starts near the back of the room. Several seconds tick by before Clint sees any sign of her again and when he does, he almost wants to smack his head for not thinking of the same thing.

He can't see her body, just her hands where they're touching the sides of a medium copper disk decorating the back wall. The movements are minor: enough to make a difference in the disk's position but so slow as to be nearly undetectable unless you're looking for them. Suddenly, she lifts the bottom of the disk up, angling the disk outward and catching the attention of the two goons. Then blinding them as the bright lights shining from the ceiling along the back wall of the otherwise dim restaurant are reflected straight into their eyes.

Clint doesn't pause, instead shifting with ease to take his shot at the goon on the left. The bullet catches him straight in the knee, sending him to the ground in pain. Goon 2 immediately looks towards his friend, gun pointing towards the source of the shot. Clint shifts to fire at him as well, but never gets the chance. A metal disk suddenly flies out of nowhere to catch the second goon in the head before Clint can fire, sending him to the ground with his buddy.

Glancing over his shoulder, Clint sees Darcy leaning her elbows against the half-wall with a grin. At his raised eyebrow, she just shrugs and hops the wall, starting towards him as if she was just coming back from the restroom rather than having thrown a metal disk at a man's head. Shaking his head, Clint refocuses on the two robbers. He won't admit it out loud, but there is something incredibly hot about a woman who can take a guy out in the middle of a gun fight then act like nothing happened.

"That was impressive," admitted Clint as soon as she's in earshot.

Darcy just shrugged. "I'm wicked good at Frisbee Golf."

He can see that. "So, any particular reason you decided to exhibit those skills?"

"They ruined our first date, it only seemed fair I ruin their night," explained Darcy, attention falling to the two men currently on the ground. "So now what?"

"Police should be on their way," replied Clint, eyes focused on the two men in front of him. "We should be able to head back to town after that."

Darcy huffed a little, running a hand through her tangled hair. "Well, that blows. And here I was hoping for a nice little evening without shit blowing up."

Clint shrugged. "Well, if it helps, nothing actually blew up." Just as he says that, there's an explosion from the kitchen. Nothing major, but the force is enough to make a very loud bang. "Never mind."

"Sounds like we aren't getting dinner here," sighed Darcy unhappily, eyes turned towards the now-smoking kitchen. "Oh well, that's what fast food is for." Pausing, she tilted her head a little in consideration. "Do you think the kitchen's actually on fire?"

"Nah, that was a pressure explosion and not a chemically induced one," assured Clint. At Darcy's raised eyebrow, he just kinda shrugged. "In my line of work, you learn the difference."

Shaking her head, Darcy's focus shifted again as police suddenly swarmed into the room, surrounding the robbers at the owner's instruction. Everything gets a little chaotic after that, with the police taking statements from everyone, including Clint, who gives them a fake ID, and Darcy. He wouldn't have been as annoyed if the officer questioning Darcy hadn't been hitting on her at the same time. He would definitely be lodging a complaint with the man's chief in the morning.

They finally managed to get out of the restaurant an hour later, both starving and worn. Without thinking about it, Clint wrapped an arm around Darcy's waist as they started down the street. There was a generic fast-food chain place just down the block from where they'd been.

"So, any way I could beg your forgiveness for tonight? Or have I lost any chance at redemption?" inquired Clint as they walk, attempting to both lighten the mood and get an actual answer from Darcy.

The woman beside him shrugs, leaning her head on his shoulder. "It wasn't your fault, so stop trying to take the blame. But if you really want to make it up to me, I'll give you a do-over."

"A do-over?' repeated Clint, surprised by her willingness to give him a second chance. "Really?"

"Yep," confirmed Darcy, face turning up to offer him a grin. "I like you and I'd like the chance to actually get to know you. Besides, as first dates go, this one wasn't so bad."

Both of his eyebrows shot towards his hairline. "Not so bad? Darce, we got caught in the middle of a heist and shot at. Most people consider that pretty bad."

"Yeah," agreed Darcy with a touch of a smirk. "But at least it wasn't boring or awkward."


	26. Prompt: Blood

**So, originally this one was much longer (25 pages versus 6), but I decided to cut it between two prompts. Namely because the second half didn't so much fit with 'Blood' as it did with 'Mission'. Mission will be up second and probably today, I just need to edit it. Anyway, hope this is amusing.**

**Enjoy,  
><strong>

**Illusinia  
><strong>

**Prompt: **blood

**From: **avengers-tables .livejournal **under 50-word prompt (yes, I do intent to use all 50 words)**

**Pairings: **Clint/Darcy

* * *

><p>"What. The. Fuck." Darcy's incredulous voice echos around the bathroom like an omen.<p>

Clint winces from where he's sitting on the edge of the counter, attempting to clean away some of the dried blood still clinging to his arm. The bullet wound isn't _that_ bad, he's certainly had worse. From the way Darcy is looking at him however, it feels like what he considers a minor injury is more akin to arterial spray.

"How the fuck did you get shot?" continues Darcy as she sets down the messenger bag on her shoulder and moves to examine his arm.

It takes a lot of effort not to wince when she touches the area around his injury. Bruising around bullet wounds is a lot worse than most people realize. "It's nothing Darce." Calming tones are usually very effective. When your girlfriend doesn't give you the same glare-of-doom in response that your boss does when you've done something stupid. _Dear god, how often do Phil and Darcy interact if he's already teaching her his facial expressions?_

"That isn't nothing," corrects Darcy as she grabs the towel from him and continues cleaning the blood off his arm without touching the stitches. "I call that bodily harm and reiterate my previous question: how the fuck did you get shot?"

For a moment, Clint considers how to answer that. Really, it isn't his fault this time. Well, it is because he completely trusted the intel that logistics gave him without confirming it visually. Then again, he _had_ been in the process of being chased by angry HYDRA agents at that exact moment. Accurate intel would have been nice. Still, things happen in the field and shit goes sideways. He isn't dead, which goes a long way in the long run (and is probably more important than pretty much anything else). Too bad with Darcy lying isn't an option: somehow she always knows when he isn't telling the entire truth and stares at him until he _is_ completely truthful.

"Things got a little hairy out there, that's all," attempts Clint. Complete truth, but Darcy still gives him the 'you're leaving something out' look that he dreads. Seriously, is she related to Phil? No one should be able to give him that look and make him feel like a chastised school kid besides his boss. "We had some bad intel and didn't know it in enough time to completely adjust. Everyone's alive though, so stop worrying."

Her response isn't what he expects.

"Again? Seriously?" The incredulous tone is back, even if it's carried on a disbelieving groan. "I don't believe this. What the fuck kind of dumbasses are they hiring to run their logistics sector for your command base? I know Phil heads tactics and that he's more than competent, so what's everyone else's excuse?"

Clint blinks at her for a moment, then furrows his eyebrows. "'Again'? Darce, how do you know this has happened before?"

Darcy rolls her eyes. "I work for Phil, remember? I've read your mission jackets, both briefings and debriefings. I know how many times shit has gone down due to crap intel in the last few months. It's bullshit and it's stopping now."

He doesn't even have a chance to get a word in before she's stormed out the door and into the hallway. For a small girl, she moves incredibly fast. Luckily he's fast too, darting out of the bathroom and into the hallway after her before the rag he's been using to clean his arm hits the floor.

"Darce, wait!" calls Clint, trying to catch up with her. He catches sight of her turning a corner ahead. "Darcy!"

She never looks back and when he goes running around the corner, somehow she's disappeared in a completely Coulson-the-ninja-robot-boss move that has Clint wondering if there's any way to minimize the amount of time his girlfriend and boss spend together. Seriously, he's seen how hard they both work so _when_ has Phil had the time to teach her any of this stuff? _Maybe the whole 'related' joke that Tony keeps making isn't that far from the mark._ The thought alone makes Clint snort. _Right, Coulson with a daughter like Darcy? Not possible._

Taking a moment, he considers where she might be headed. She's pissed about their intel, which means it's pretty much limited to the current command team or Fury. He really hopes she won't go to Fury. That would be messy, either for her or the current command team. Possibly both, though Clint would put his money on the command team. Fury seems to actually _like_ Darcy, for reasons no one can comprehend save maybe Phil who Clint still swears is sleeping with their one-eyed boss. No matter how often Darcy rolls her eyes and repeatedly tells him Phil is as straight as one of his arrows.

Opting to check in with the command team first, he scurries in the general direction of their offices. It takes him less than five minutes to reach them and, to his horror, no one has seen Darcy. Or any sign of her. Steve is there of course, giving a lecture to some kid who looks a little bored. It's the same guy who's been heading the logistics team responsible for all briefing information as well as guiding and supporting them in the field, be that with information or transportation. Every single time the guy insists it isn't his fault too, which rubs Clint the wrong way in so many ways it's not funny but he isn't actually in a position to do anything about it. Largely because they don't have an immediate replacement for the guy. He has heard rumors that someone is being trained to take his place, though.

"Steve!" calls Clint as he jogs towards the super-soldier while dodging people with pads of paper, maps, and notes of all kinds. "Hey, have you seen Darcy?"

Steve's brow furrows a little before he seems to remember who Clint's talking about. Clint has to remind himself that not everyone knows Darcy particularly well. Largely because she works so much and when she is at home there's almost always at least an hour or two where she spends time alone. According to her, it's necessary to maintain her sanity. It also means that the other Avengers shy of Tony (who often prods her into drinking adventures) and himself don't see her unless she's with Coulson. Which only happens when Coulson comes to see them and needs her to tag along.

"You mean the brunette woman who works for Coulson, correct?" asks Steve kindly, clearly embarrassed by his lack of memory of Darcy.

His heart drops a little into his stomach, out of dread more than anything else. "Yeah, Darcy Lewis."

"I haven't seen her, no," assures Steve, though the furrow is back. "Why? Is something wrong?"

Clint groans, a hand coming up to rub at his eyes. "Possibly. Probably. We may or may not be hiding a body later. Or bodies. It depends on how many people end up dead."

The alarmed expression that crosses Steve's face would have been hilarious under any other circumstances. Namely, if Clint was joking. Seriously, he's a little worried for the physical and mental health of any member of the logistics team right now. Darcy angry is a scary sight he's had the good fortune to only witness once.

Noting that Steve looks ready to call 911, Clint quickly continues. "I don't mean literally. Well, I hope not literally. With Darcy its a little hard to tell sometimes but best guess is that she won't commit any permanent bodily harm."

Steve doesn't really look convinced. Or pacified. "Should we send out an alert?"

"No," assures Clint quickly as he starts towards the door, moving backwards. "Like I said, she won't actually murder anyone. Maim perhaps, but not murder. She's not the murdering type. I'll just keep looking for her."

For a moment, he thinks he might actually get away without Captain America following him around to hunt for his pissed off girlfriend. Mostly that's for Steve's sake. When pissed, Darcy can curse in some creative ways that have made _him_ blush. Steve's brain would probably implode from the images. Tony swears some of the stuff she's threatened can't be done. Clint doesn't want to find out if that's true or not.

However, any hopes of escaping without forming a miniature search party go down in flames when Steve starts to follow Clint out of the room. "This will go faster if we search together. I'll get the other Avengers on this as well."

Clint groans and shakes his head, reaching up to cover the communicator while subtly removing it from Steve's hands. "Seriously Steve, don't worry about it. I'll go find her. She's probably bitching to Coulson about our logistics head being a moron or something." A look of horror crosses Steve's face that Clint knows he'd be mimicking if he wasn't aware of how much Coulson seemed to like Darcy. Their relationship tended to make him more than a little nervous.

Shrugging to throw off some of his tension, he offered Steve a smirk and pointed out: "At least its not Fury. Well," pausing, Clint considered his words, "actually, she could be bitching at Fury. Shit. I'd better go find her."

He takes off again for the door, hearing Steve groan behind him before following as well. "Does she usually do things like this?"

"When pissed? Yeah," confirms Clint with a grimace.

Steve shakes his head slowly. "What set her off like this?"

Clint winces. "My injury."

"Really?" asks Steve with wide eyes. "It's not good that you were hurt but this seems a bit over the top."

"I don't think it was the actual injury so much as the fact that bad intel was part of the reason I got hurt," explains Clint. "She knows we've had issues with that in the past few months, apparently this was just the last straw."

Steve shakes his head with a sigh, holding out his hand towards Clint as they kept walking. "I need my communicator back. If we're going to save your girlfriend, we'll need more help than just us."

* * *

><p>Darcy. Is. Pissed. Beyond pissed. The behavior from the logistics team was unacceptable. And someone is going to hear about it.<p>

Storming down the hallway, she made her way towards the one person she knew who could do something. Logistics needed to be revamped, otherwise someone was going to get killed and then she'd have to find a place to hide a body or six. Clint would help her of course, but she didn't want to drag him in if she didn't have to. Tony on the other hand...

"Ma'am? You can go in now," offers a dark-haired woman positioned at a desk next to a single office door.

Darcy nods and gives her dad the best scowl possible as she walks into his office. Agent Phil Coulson just shoots her a raised eyebrow in return.

"Miss Lewis, how may I help you?" asks Phil calmly, eying the former intern as she shuts the door behind her. Once the click of the door fades, he hits a button under his desk top then moves to lean against the front of it. "Darcy, what's wrong? I know that glare and it's the one that usually leads to an attempted murder charge."

Darcy huffs but smiles a little. "That never happened."

"Yet," corrects Phil easily as he motions for Darcy to take a seat in front of his desk. "Now, what has you in such an amazing mood today?"

"Clint," growls Darcy as she flops into the chair. She can see her father debating if he needs to replace his best agent or not and continues quickly. "He got hurt during this last mission because of bad intel. Again. Dad, this needs to stop before someone gets seriously hurt or killed."

Phil sighs, nodding as he folds his arms across his chest. "I agree, but we don't have anyone to take over."

"Yeah, you do," corrects Darcy. "You've been training me to do this job since you and Fury cooked up the idea of the Avengers. I know what to do, all that's holding me back is the field clearance which I don't actually _need_ to do this job." He still looks unhappy which prompts Darcy to continue quickly. "Look Dad, I'm one course off from completing the field training set so I can take the qualifiers. That class is the hand-to-hand one which we've already established I can pass without taking it, so it's like I'm already ready to take the qualifiers. Plus, the Avengers are an active team with an incompetent logistics head and a lot of dangerous missions. Someone is going to potentially die if we don't get that dumbass out of there and I'm his replacement."

"Let me talk with Director Fury," compromises Phil as he picks up his headset to dial Fury's office. "If he agrees with your assessment, then I'll allow for the change to occur. Fair?"

Darcy nods. "Fair. But if he says no, I want to know why."

"Always," assures Phil as the ringer goes silent on the phone, replaced by a deep male voice. "Hello, Director Fury?"

* * *

><p>Clint rounds the corner of the hall, heading towards Coulson's office with Steve hot on his tail. All of the Avengers are on the look-out for Darcy, after he finished reminding them what she looked like. Which really amounted to reminding Bruce because Natasha had spent time with the brunette, Thor recalled who Darcy was very well (it's hard to forget a girl who tasers a god), and Tony is always attempting to drag her out drinking.<p>

What led them to Coulson's office was Natasha's off-handed reminder that he was in charge of the command team which worked in conjunction the logistics team and he was the one who handled the logistics team's staff. Clint just hoped his boss/handler would be kind enough to not murder his girlfriend for speaking out of turn. Even if he liked Darcy, there was a good chance he _wouldn't_ like being griped at about something that was already a known problem.

The sight that greeted Clint as they reached the office isn't what he's expecting. Nor is it what Steve's expecting either, because the super-soldier runs smack into Clint without uttering a word. Clint just drags him back around the corner, peeking back at the office from his hiding place in confusion.

Darcy is standing just outside the door of the office with Fury, speaking to Coulson and looking far less angry than she had before. Fury doesn't look unhappy either. In fact, the man is wearing that pleased smirk that qualifies as a smile for him. Even Coulson seems happy with whatever happened.

Clint ducks back out of sight and shakes his head. What the hell did his girlfriend do to make both Fury and Coulson look pleased? Handed them all of the most wanted individuals on S.H.I.E.L.D's hit list with a big bow attached? No, then Fury would be throwing a party. He glances around the corner again then ducks back once more and hisses at Steve 'Act casual'.

Steve looks confused but Clint covers for both of them (at least he thinks he did) by pretending to laugh at something the super-soldier said. Of course, Steve is still confused but Darcy doesn't say anything as she rounds the corner. Instead, she reaches out and catches Clint's hand after making eye contact with him so he doesn't flip her. Like he accidentally did when she ran to catch up with him on the sidewalk once.

"Hey Clint, what's so funny?" She cocks her head to the side as she speaks, giving him the confused puppy look she does so well.

Clint smiles and uses their joined hands to pull her closer. "Hey Darce, Steve was just telling me about some girl he was talking with the other day."

"Oh?" Her eyes slide to Steve, who squirms almost immediately under her gaze. Huh. Okay, either Steve is a really good liar (unlikely) or some girl had actually approached him (entirely possible). Clint files the information away to pursue at another time as Darcy continues. "That's great Steve." Her eyes slide back to him, tugging a little on his hand. "Now if you'll excuse us, we need to finish getting Clint's arm cleaned up."

"Sure," agrees Clint as she tugs him down the hallway and away from the office. "Later Steve!"

Steve just nods, apparently too embarrassed to respond. Yeah, Clint's definitely going to quiz him later. For now, however, he has an attractive brunette looking to play nurse with him. An invitation he never turns down.


	27. Prompt: Mission

**And here is the second part. Originally, this was written as part of 'Blood', but it seemed to fit 'Mission' better.**

**Enjoy,  
><strong>

**Illusinia  
><strong>

**Prompt: **Mission

**From: **avengers-tables .livejournal **under 50-word prompt (yes, I do intent to use all 50 words)**

**Pairings: **Clint/Darcy

* * *

><p>Unfortunately, being a superhero means limited down time. Barely two weeks have passed since Darcy's discussion with Coulson before there's another dumbass running around in tights and attempting to take over the world. Or something like that. Clint gets the call near midnight (luckily neither him nor Darcy were asleep) and is out the door almost five minutes later.<p>

Coulson calls her two minutes after Clint is out the door. "Can you take command?" She can hear the unease in his voice.

There hasn't been time to meet the rest of the logistics team yet and Darcy refuses to fire or switch anyone out without first trying to work with the team. They had been planning to run a simulated mission for the team so any issues could be worked out before their first live run. Best laid plans and all that.

"Yeah, I'm already heading out," confirms Darcy as she slides on a sweatshirt and grabs her badge. "Have you assembled my team or do I need to?"

"They've already been called and should be there by the time you arrive," confirms Coulson. "Are you sure? I can head the logistics team for a mission if you need me to."

Darcy barely refrains from rolling her eyes. Somehow, even over the phone, her father always knows when she does. "I'll be fine Phil, promise."

He grunts a little when she uses his first name (she's sure he's noticed that she uses his first name in lieu of Dad) but he doesn't say anything more on the topic. "Connect with me when you've arrived. ETA for them is twenty minutes."

She's already in the garage at the mansion and grabbing her car. "I'll be there in less than ten."

It takes almost seven minutes for her to reach the main HQ (quicker than normal due to the sirens that were installed on her car for this express purpose) and she's walking into the command center five minutes after she's arrived. Everyone looks up when she comes in of course; the whole team knows they're getting a new logistics head. The only people who don't seem to know are the Avengers themselves. Fury and Coulson had been planning to inform the Avengers when everything was settled so the group could actually come meet the team. Obviously, that isn't going to happen.

No one says anything when she enters, just looks at her expectantly. She's heard the speculation on who the new head is. They've been talking about it since the previous guy was reassigned and threw a hissy fit over the whole thing. The consensus seems to be that the new guy (or girl, as many of the female techs have pointed out) is someone who already works for S.H.I.E.L.D. Most money is on Coulson taking command. Darcy knows when she walks in that they're expecting Coulson to enter behind her. Knowing looks which clearly say 'I told you so' and a few hand motions indicating a bet transpire between the gathered group. Everyone in S.H.I.E.L.D thinks Darcy is Coulson's secretary. Of course they think Coulson is going to take command.

"Alright, lets look alive people! We're live in three!" shouts Darcy as she slides up into the station that sits above the rest of the team and brings the computer online. It's linked in with all of the other stations and has five different monitors for her to track information on. A headset is hanging off a peg next to the station and she pulls it on before flipping the switch that allows her to connect with Coulson and listen in on the Avenger's comm line. When she looks back over at the team, everyone is staring at her with wide eyes. She just cocks an eyebrow at them. "C'mon guys, lets get moving and show the Avenger's that we're more than competent!"

That gets everyone moving. There's a flurry of motion and chatter as everyone moves to get their stations online. Darcy gives them a moment before flipping the line over to check in with Coulson. "Phil, you there?"

"I can hear you, Miss Lewis," confirms Coulson over the line. "Remind me to have your microphone checked after this. Your voice is distorted."

Darcy makes a face and glances at the various controls at the station. "Hang on, let me see if I can fix that." She finds the microphone feed system and fiddles with some of the controls before trying again. "That better?"

"Clearer," confirms Coulson mildly. "I can understand you now, but we need to replace that mic. Is your team online?"

She glances around at the group, noting that everyone appears to have their stations up and running. All but two of them are looking up at her for instructions. It's only a five person team, not including her. "Yeah, we're good to go."

"Excellent. Your line is set so you can listen in to the Avenger's communication feed but they won't be able to here you," explains Coulson, like he hasn't said this before. "If you need to give them information directly, I'll patch you through."

Darcy smirks a little, dropping her voice some and bending her head towards the monitors so the others can't hear what she says next. "Playing phone operator now, Phil?"

"We're being recorded, Miss Lewis," reminds Coulson dryly but she can hear the faint smirk in his tone. Fury's the only one who will hear these communication recordings except for maybe Agent Hill. Besides, everyone knows she calls Coulson by his first name. It's usually referred to as one of her idiosyncrasies.

"Your point?" asks Darcy with a faint smirk. "Fury's the only one who'll hear. Isn't that right, Director?"

"That is correct, Miss Lewis," confirms Fury over the line. She knows he's stationed in one of the three command centers that monitors the Avenger's activities. All three of the centers are in different parts of the building, in part so if someone attempts to attack the command center they can't take out all three at once. Theoretically, if Fury's and Coulson's centers went down, command would switch to Darcy. It's part of there reason she had issues with the last guy.

She opens her mouth to say more, but Steve breaks into the comm line at that point, drawing everyone's attention. "We're near the drop point. T minus 2 minutes."

Darcy hears when Coulson's center goes live because there's a click on the line. "And here we go. Captain, give me a visual."

On her end, Darcy quickly draws up the map of where the team is headed along with her copy of the mission briefing. It's more in-depth in some regards than the one that's given to the team, mostly because it contains additional details that her team might need to relay information. She flips a switch on her control panel to mute her microphone. "Alright team, we're live. Cal," Calinia (Cal for short) Janson, a raven-haired woman with big green eyes, looks up from one of the computers near the front. "Pull up a map on the main monitor of their location. I want to see where they're headed. Jack," Jack Thompson, a guy with sandy blond hair and glasses, looks back at her from near the front of the room, "I need their GPS trackers online stat. If one of them gets pinned, I want to know where."

"That's not possible, ma'am," Jack informs her uneasily. Shy doesn't seem like his style, not based on his file. It makes her wonder what went down with the last guy. "The GPS tracking system has been offline for months. It went down a while back but Edison never submitted any kind of maintenance order."

Mentally, Darcy wanted to chuck Edison, the former head, to the moon and watch him suffocate. Her mind was generating a shitload of ways she could watch him suffer and die. Most of them were probably physically impossible, but she could dream. The best involved ten of Natasha's good knives, lemon juice, and a table with restraints. Also some sandpaper.

"Ma'am?" Jack's voice draws her away from her ideas of vengeance. "What do you want us to do?"

"It's Darcy," corrects Darcy as she reaches for the switch that will unmute her microphone. "Phil, we've got a problem."

"Problems are dangerous, Miss Lewis," points out Fury before Coulson can respond.

"Yeah, I know," growls Darcy. "And this is one of the potentially dangerous type. Apparently the GPS tracking system failed months ago but Edison never reported it."

She can hear Fury cursing over the comm line and shouting at someone to get Edison into his office, stat. Scratch her previous comment about knives and lemon juice, Death by Fury is far better. Phil might even let her watch on the security cameras.

Coulson's voice cuts through the line again, speaking over Fury's ranting. "Can you operate without the GPS system, Miss Lewis?"

"Yeah," sighs Darcy unhappily as she starts drawing up different feeds from her station. She gives a hand motion for Jack to stand-by as the list of feeds comes up on her screen. "Hang on Phil." Again, she mutes her mic. "Jack, can we get a thermal feed overlay on the map?"

Jack turns and hits a few buttons on his station. "Drawing up the thermal feed."

The map which Cal had previously gotten up on the display warps as the thermal over-lay comes up. It's grainy at best and zooms the whole map out to an annoyingly distant level. There's no way that'll work. "Can we get closer?"

"I don't have the permissions to actually operate the satellite," admits Jack sheepishly. "Edison's system should be equipped with the codes though."

"Seriously?" Death by Fury might be too good for Edison. Her fingers fly over the keys and, sure enough there are the control codes. Thank god she learned how the computer system worked months ago. "Alright Jack, I'm transferring the controls over to you. Zoom us in as far as possible." She flips the switch for her mic again just as Coulson is starting to shout for her to reply. "I'm going to murder Edison if I ever get my hands on him."

"You'll have to beat Fury to him," points out Coulson. "He's ready to murder the man. Should I assume there's more wrong than just a failed GPS system?"

"Maybe," sighs Darcy, "but I can't check all the controls at once so we'll have to operate with what we have. I've got a thermal read up on the screen of their intended location. It's not the best but assuming they haven't arrived yet I should be able to track them once they show up."

"It'll have to do," agrees Coulson.

Steve's voice cuts across the line again. "We're T minus 30 seconds to the drop point."

"Roger that Captain," confirms Coulson before speaking to Darcy again. "Do you see them on screen yet?"

Darcy's eyes dart across the screen and she sees the mass of color slide onto the map and into view. "Yeah, I've got them on visual. It's crappy but it'll work."

"Alright." Coulson sounds about as thrilled as she is, but this guy isn't one of the major baddies so hopefully this won't be too big of a deal. "Captain, proceed to drop point. You're clear to go. Maintain radio contact at all times."

"Roger," accepts Steve. Then he's gone and it's just Darcy, Coulson, and Fury on the comm lines.

Darcy's eyes fall back to her computer. She draws up the blue-prints of the base the Avengers are targeting (an abandoned hideout from a former mad scientist they took out years ago) and clicks through that while monitoring the regular satellite feed for the area. It's not particularly detailed but it allows her to watch for guards. The command center won't have much to do until the team is actually on the ground. Her eyes are drawn to the main screen when a blip of color wonders onto the map. Its a small mass but she can make out three individuals from it. Walking a patrol path.

"Coulson, we have a problem," informs Darcy immediately, mentally cursing as she does. Everyone in her command turns to look at her, then up at the screen. She can hear someone swearing in the room that isn't her.

"Please tell me it isn't technological," sighs Coulson unhappily.

"Biological," replies Darcy as she starts attempting to pull up better satellite images of the base. "I've got three guards on patrol, five o'clock and approaching the drop point."

She hears Coulson utter a quiet 'damn' before the line crackles. "Captain, we have a problem. Three guards heading your way, 5 o'clock."

"Roger," replies Steve. "Hawkeye, do you see them?"

"Yeah." Clint's voice cuts across the comm line, tense and a little rough. "Want me to take them out?"

"Keep them in your sight," instructs Steve. "Coulson, can you give me more information?"

Coulson doesn't say anything, instead allowing Darcy to speak before he can ask. "There's a cluster of trees between the guards and them. If they duck there, it might be possible to ambush them."

"Did you catch that, Captain?" asks Coulson mildly. Darcy bulks a little, surprised that Coulson would allow her to speak directly to Steve like that.

Steve pauses for a second but that could be him issuing orders. "I heard sir and I see the tree cluster. Attempting ambush, stand by."

"Roger," confirms Coulson.

Darcy takes the opportunity to mute her mic and turn back to her team. "I want a full history of this place and it's former occupant. Everything from what the guy or girl was working on to anyone who's been spotted there in the time since their capture. Images, recordings, whatever you can get I want it."

"Roger than Darcy," confirms Jack as he begins scanning through information. She watches the other five members of her team follow suit.

She's scanning the area on the ground when Steve comes back online. "We've neutralized the guards sir."

"Roger that. Logistics, do you see any more guards?" asks Coulson.

"Not yet," replies Darcy as she flips her mic back on. "My team's doing another information scan for anything since the last nut job that occupied this place. Something doesn't feel right here."

"Agreed," sighs Coulson. She can hear him doing something on his end but isn't sure what. "I don't see anything maj-"

"Darcy, I have something," calls a brown-haired man with messy spikes from against the wall. Three of the stations plus her own face the large monitor while two (one on each side of the room) face the side walls. One of the stations is routed directly into S.H.I.E.L.D's database and the other is isolated from S.H.I.E.L.D's internal network but has full external access. The remaining three stations control the satellite feeds, GPS feeds, and additional communication feeds that aren't directly related to the main line that is split between her, Coulson, and Fury.

"What's up Mac?" asks Darcy as she looks towards the young man. He's probably about her age and is positioned at the computer with full external access. His file says he's a hacker.

Mac types a few keys and downloads something onto one of many flash drives before plugging it into the second computer to his left. It's isolated from the internal network to the extent that it can't access the network but Darcy can open a backdoor to retrieve any information he places on it. "I found a record of the former owner. She had a son, some kid with half her intelligence and a bit of a grudge over what happened to Mommy. Looks like he's been arrested numerous times and has a few friends in the mad-science ring."

Darcy feels a shiver travel down her spine. That sounds very bad. "Who has he been seen with?"

"Looks like Venom, Moonstone, and his mom were pretty close at one time," supplies Mac as he downloads more information onto a second flash drive and plugs it in below the first. Darcy opens the backdoor and starts scanning the files on a virtual machine.

"Shit, I'm seeing more than a Hydra agent and some girl with powers from a stone on this list," mutters Darcy. "Hey Ph-Coulson, we think we know who this clown is and it's not good." She quickly corrected herself on his name. Calling him Phil when Fury was on the line was one thing but Steve would lecture her until her ears bled if he heard her call Coulson by his first name.

"Why do I have the distinct impression I'm going to regret asking what you found?" asks Coulson with a heavy sigh. She learned when she was 8 that was his way of _not_ making a sarcastic comment when his superiors are around. Fury doesn't really care but it's not the most professional thing to do. Plus Hill's given him the evil-eye over his sarcasm before and she could have gone into the command center.

Darcy hits a few buttons and forwards the information to Coulson. "You will."

She knew the second he saw the file. His muttered comment of 'dammit, of _course_ this has to happen right _after_ we get rid of the incompetent ass but _before_ we can fix his mess' comes through the headset loud and clear. She gives him a few seconds to get it out of his system before continuing. "What do you think? We can still extract them."

"It's worse than we thought," admits Coulson with clear frustration.

Fury chooses that moment to interject in his usual calm manner. "Unfortunately, they're there and need to finish this now. Who knows what insane plot these crazies have up their sleeve?"

"We don't have the information to properly advise them if something comes up," points out Coulson, apparently moving steadily towards the 'extraction' mindset rather than the 'lets see if they almost get killed first' one that Fury is favoring.

"That is what we have the logistics division for," comments Fury in such as way that Darcy knows he's expecting her to insist they can do this. If she were sure about that, she might agree.

Her eyes scan the room, taking in the five people seated there. "Give me a minute." Then she mutes the mic and slides the headset to hang around her neck for the moment. "Okay, everyone listen up." The whole team, all five of them, turn to face her with uncertainty. On the screen, the six colored marks representing the Avengers haven't moved far. "Here's the deal. The Avengers are out there and potentially in over their heads. We weren't expecting someone with these connections or anyone to be there other than our target. This is the deciding moment concerning if they go forward or not. Question is, can we support them if they do? I'm new here but I've read your files and believe we can do this. Thing I need to know is if you guys agree."

For a moment, the room hovers in silence. Every pair of eyes is locked on her, wide and disbelieving. Uncertain. Surprised.

Cal is the first to speak, looking the most surprised and uneasy. She's also the newest addition to the group. "You're asking us?"

"Duh," replies Darcy with a smirk. "If you guys can't do this or aren't up for this, we'll turn the group around. I can't do this shit alone people."

"You really want our opinions?" Jack's brow is furrowed, but he looks less surprised than suspicious. Minor paranoia was noted in his file, specifically of government agencies. If he couldn't write, repair, and operate GPS programs like he can, S.H.I.E.L.D might not have hired him.

It takes too much effort to suppress her eye-roll. "If I didn't I wouldn't be asking. Guys, we're supposed to be a team and I can't do this alone. If the rest of this team isn't behind me, I'm not going to agree to anything."

Mac smirks slightly and nods. "Wow, someone who finally gets it. Impressive. And I'm in, I say we go for it."

His counterpart on the other side of the room, a quiet albino woman with beautiful silver hair and blue-white eyes named Dawn Swan (seriously, that is her name), nods in approval. According to her file, she has some issues with sun and light sensitivity, which is why her area has no lighting directly over-head and there's a pair of sunglasses constantly at her side. Coulson also added a note that she and Mac work well together.

"Okay, we have two," comments Darcy as her eyes sift back to everyone else. "That's two yes, three undecided."

"Three yes," corrects Leo Nelbrim from where he's sitting at the communication station. He's very tall and lanky with long hair pulled back into a pony tail. His bangs are long and there's a cowboy hat that sits on the table next to him. According to his file, he comes from the southwest and a ranching family. He can also organize and track pretty much anything, which is great for someone who's job it is to handle transportation.

"Right, three yes' and two undecideds then," corrects Darcy as she looks towards Cal and Jack. They look at each other and shrug but nod. She gives them both relieved smiles and slips her headset back on. "Hey Fury, we're on board if you still want to keep everyone deployed."

"Glad you could join us again, Miss Lewis," growls Fury, apparently a little annoyed she disappeared but he can deal. She won't agree to anything without the support of her team and she's made this clear in the past. "But it's good to know you're all for this. Does your team support this decision?"

"That's what I was checking on," explains Darcy. "We're ready over here when you are."

"Then lets get this party started," mutters Coulson. There's a weird click on the line, then Coulson's talking again. "Captain, are you there?"

"We're here sir," replies Steve. He sounds tense, not that Darcy can blame him for that. "What's your call?"

"Keep going, we'll feed you information as you proceed or we find it," commands Coulson. Darcy can hear a few pieces of paper and a mouse click or two on his end. "I'm going to patch your team's communication lines in with logistics so they can directly pass information on to you as they work."

"Logistics sir?" questions Steve uneasily. "No offense, but the last few times we've worked with the logistics team, things have gone badly."

"Plus Darcy'll kill someone if one of us gets hurt again," adds Clint, who's apparently a little ways off from the group if he's using the comm lines.

Darcy rolls her eyes, relieved that the rest of her team can't hear what's going on through this particular channel. At least she doesn't think they can. Glancing around, she realizes no one is wearing a head-set but her. She makes a note to ask about that and tunes back into the conversation without commenting. Telling Clint she's running the logistics team isn't a conversation she's looking forward to, which means she won't say anything until she has to.

"Logistics has experienced a few changes that should greatly improve the division," explains Fury. "They can and will guide you through this. It's their job."

Another mic crackles to life, Natasha's voice coming over the line loud and clear. "Will they get someone shot this time?"

Now at least she knows someone else was pissed about that. She cuts in before Coulson or Fury can comment. "No one is getting shot if we can avoid it. We need you guys to tell us what you need though, no one here can read minds."

Steve cuts back in before Natasha can respond. "We'll communicate as much as possible."

"That's all we ask," assures Darcy as she sits back against her chair, opening a chat window (the room is wired with an isolated chat system for exchanging information when verbal commands are impossible) with Cal's system. She asks the other woman to give her as much information on the topography of the area and construction of the building as possible. In another window, she tells Jack to tag the Avenger's dots if he can. She also tells Leo to hold the chopper that dropped off the team in the area. She wants their transport no more than five minutes from the drop site, less if possible. All three send back affirmative responses but she feels the tension in the room increase. They're a team with an unfamiliar leader looking at a very rocky situation where they will be needed to pull information to guide the team through any number of obstacles.

She listens to the chatter on the main line for a moment longer before muting her mic and slipping her headset off one ear to issue orders. "Mac, I need everything you can get about this area. Surrounding cities, maps, roads, whatever you can find, get it up to me and do whatever it takes. Dawn," her eyes dart to the woman, giving her a look that asks for permission to use her first name. There wasn't a notation in her file like there was for everyone else. Dawn looks back at her and nods, apparently fine with being addressed by her first name. "I need everything S.H.I.E.L.D has on this place in their databases. I don't care if it's notations about past suspicious deliveries to the surrounding towns or major baddies who've built forts there at any time, I want everything."

"Yes Darcy," confirms Dawn with a touch of a smile as she spins back towards her station and starts pulling information.

For several minutes, Darcy just listens to the main line as the team trades information and strategies while watching their dots move. Though he couldn't identify which was which, Jack had managed to tag the Avenger's dots so that she could track the team itself. She heard Steve order Hawkeye on the roof and watched as a dot broke away from the group and headed for the roof.

"Jack, the dot that just broke away is Hawkeye," informs Darcy as she gestures towards the solo dot. "Can you tag him individually?" She's careful to keep her voice neutral rather than hopeful.

The tag attached to his dot shifts to read 'Hawkeye'. "Done."

Darcy nods her thanks and continues to listen to the comm line chatter for a moment longer before Mac waved at her. He pointed at his monitor, then mimicked her taking off her headset. She makes sure her mic is muted before sliding the set around her neck and turning towards Mac.

"What's wrong?" asks Darcy with a furrowed brow.

Mac's expression is drawn in a way that makes a shiver run down Darcy's spine. That look couldn't be good. "I'm seeing a lot of small-level transactions in the surrounding cities for some really weird stuff."

"Send me a list of the shipments," requests Dawn as she turns towards Mac, her own face concerned. "I may be able to recognize what they are doing or know of a matching list of materials connected with a weapon in the system."

Darcy nods for Mac to transfer the lists, which she pulls from the second computer and forwards to Dawn before refocusing on the main comm line again. Her eyes rise to the map again, watching the dot labeled Hawkeye as it stalks across the roof of the building. Natasha has broken away as well, her representative body heat darting along the side of the building. Darcy sends Jack a command telling him to mark that dot as well. The label 'Black Widow' is added to the screen.

"Hey Coulson, what's the chance of me getting shot if I make myself airborn?" asks Tony suddenly. Darcy can hear the impatience in his voice.

Steve's voice cuts into the line as well. "That wouldn't be a bad idea if we could swing it. It would give us additional aerial coverage."

"Stay grounded Iron Man," cuts in Darcy, nixing the idea immediately. They have no where near enough information to have people potentially giving the group away yet. "We're still trying to get a feel for what's going on." Darcy shoots Jack a request to zoom back a little so they could see more of the area. "It doesn't look like there's any more guards outside but we can't say the same thing about inside yet. Just sit tight for a moment longer."

"I'm not seeing anything," informs Hawkeye across the line. "No signs of any big guns that'll cause us a lot of trouble."

Darcy sighs and opens her mouth to say something when Dawn starts waving her arms frantically across the room. Her normally composes face is creased with worry and a touch of fear has edged into her eyes. "Hang tight for a minute Captain, we might have something." She mutes her mic and pushes off her headset to focus on Dawn. "What've you got?"

"Trouble," replies Dawn as she spins back towards her computer and throws a few documents up onto the main screen. Normal-sized copies appeared on the monitor just to the left of Darcy's main monitor. "This list of materials almost completely matches a list for a very, _very_ powerful bomb designed to take out a lot of people. The shrapnel alone is concentrated enough that they could kill nearly thirty people with just one explosive."

Darcy swears as she looks over the list. "This is bad. Dawn, how many of these do you think they're building based on the shipment numbers you've seen?"

"A small arsenal," sighs Dawn with a shake of her head. "They have the material's to mass produce these things."

"Shit," curses Darcy as she pulls her headset back on. "Coulson, we've got a really big problem on our hands."

"That is not what I want to hear," informs Coulson unhappily. "What have you found?"

Darcy copies the material's list and Dawn's findings and sends them up to Coulson. "Evidence that these nuts are probably trying to destroy a series of small towns. Or a large city. Either way, it's bad."

She can hear Tony swearing along with Clint over the line, apparently having heard her little announcement. Something that might have been Steve muttering a few choice words of his own, albeit no where near as bad as anything Clint or Tony was saying, comes over the line as well.

Coulson swears colorfully with a touch of a growl. "'Bad' is an understatement in this case. Director Fury, did you receive the documents as well?"

"Yes," confirms Fury. He sounds more unhappy than usual. "Can we identify where the manufacturing level is?"

Darcy hits a few keys on her computer, pulling up the map she has of the building. "It looks like the only space would be the former laboratory in the basement of the building. Mac, can you confirm there's been no major remodeling to the building?"

"Searching, searching, all the world," replies Mac, his fingers already flying over the keys. "We're looking for anything since S.H.I.E.L.D evicted the former owner, right?"

"Anything since these blue-prints were made," corrects Darcy. "If these aren't the most up-to-date blueprints, I want to know."

"You got it," confirms Mac, his focus solely on the screen in front of him.

"We could send Natasha and Clint in to scout the building," suggests Steve. "It could offer us more information."

"And get everyone killed if they're caught," argues Darcy. "I'm looking at the numbers now, Cap. We can't risk you guys getting spotted early. Assuming these shipments are all stored there, these guys have amassed enough explosive power to blow the entire building and destroy about three miles of the surrounding area." Darcy noted Mac waving a flash drive in the air, then plugging it into the second computer. "Look, just sit tight for a moment. We might have something over here." Muting her mic again, Darcy pulls the files Mac offered her up on one of her monitors and examines the blueprints. "Are these the most up-to-date plans?"

"Most up-to-date I can find," confirms Mac. "That's not to say they couldn't have done some of their own remodeling, but this is what we've got to work with."

"Right," sighes Darcy, pulling her headset back on and tuning into the conversation, which is sounding something like an argument between Coulson and Steve. "Alright, we've got blueprints. It looks like the manufacturing level is probably the basement. As in the entire basement. There's a chance modifications have been made that aren't on the blueprints though."

She can hear Clint mutter something about the 'unreliability of logistics' and feels one of her eyebrows start to twitch. "Look, Hawkeye, I'm sorry if that isn't what you wanted to hear, but it's all you're getting for the moment. Most of my team doesn't have the security clearance they should, some of our equipment is malfunctioning, and we're basically doing a dry run for this mission. So shut it."

For a moment, no one responds. Apparently, they hadn't counted on the new logistics head having a backbone. Not that she is surprised; Edison had always struck her as apathetic at best.

Steve is the first one to speak up, giving orders easily. "Widow, Hawkeye, scout ahead. I want you to confirm that the basement is the manufacturing level. Iron Man, Hulk, and Thor, hang back here with me until we know more."

"Roger," mutters Clint. "Logistics, can you at least guide Natasha and I around or is that asking too much?"

Darcy rolls her eyes and doesn't even try to suppress her growl. "I'll lead you around as best I can, but you both need to relay information on your positions to me so I can make sure I'm giving you good data. Got it?"

"Just keep up," growls back Clint before the heat signature that they identified as him and the one representing Natasha start to move.

"Alright, get on top of the building if you guys can," instructs Darcy as she spins the blueprints for the building on her screen so they're oriented the same way as the satellite image. "And I'll get you guys down into the basement from there."

"Alright, I can see the production line. And I think we're screwed." Clint's attempt at humor falls drastically short given the situation at hand.

Thirty tense minutes after they entered the building, Clint and Natasha are in the basement of the formerly abandoned mad scientist's lab. And Darcy is focusing on making sure they remain alive. "Be careful. Based on sightings in the near-by towns, there could be as many as a hundred and fifty people in that building. I know that doesn't _sound_ like much-"

"In what universe?" cuts in Tony's sarcastic voice, the incredulous look apparent in his tone.

"-but that's a _lot_ of people if they're all wondering around. I'm monitoring for patrols, but if there is any shielding up I won't be able to see them." Her fingers tap across her keyboard, pulling up additional scans of the building. "What do you guys see?"

"Machinery," replies Natasha. "Large vats, piping, and some individuals in laboratory safety gear."

Darcy nods, typing a few notes into the messenger system and sending the data to Dawn along with a request for the size and type of equipment needed to safely work with the chemicals mentioned. Dawn shoots back a list almost immediately, along with an ideal schematic for setting up a production line for this particular explosive. "Alright, I have a schematic for the ideal production set-up. I need to know if you're seeing the same thing."

For the next five minutes, Natasha describes in, her succinct style, the set-up they are looking at: a series of large tanks of varying sizes, all connected to a single large vat from which a greenish-gray liquid is intermittently pouring. The liquid is being transferred into vials that are then inserted into flat-bottomed spheres and carefully loaded into well-lined boxes.

By the time the red-headed Russian spy is finished, Darcy knows for sure what they are looking at. And she is beyond unhappy. Without bothering to mute her mic, she calls out to Leo. "Leo, I want you to bring their chopper in closer. As in, three minutes or less closer. I don't care where the chopper hides or how you do it, but bring it in."

Leo holds up his hand in the 'okay' position and sets to work following her orders.

Over the line, Coulson makes a very unhappy noise. "I'm going to assume you've confirmed this _is_the weapon they are currently mass-producing."

"Bingo," confirms Darcy with a sigh. "Unfortunately, I'm not sure there is a way we can take out the system without blowing everything to high-hell."

"So we blow it to high-hell," states Tony. "Blow it up and go home."

Darcy can feel the tension in her jaw. "Iron Man, if we blow the place up, it's going to take out everything in a five-mile radius. Along with all of you. I don't feel like being murdered by Pepper because _you_ decided to play with an explosive of questionable stability."

Before anyone else can add to the smart-assery, Coulson cuts in smoothly. "What are the other options then?"

"We could plant timed charges and get the hell out of dodge before the whole thing blows," suggests Clint, his voice less hostile than before.

Darcy considers the material list in front of her and the strength of the explosion before replying. "That could work, but do you guys have any explosives that can do the job? It wouldn't have to be a lot."

"I can jury-rig something," offers Clint. She can hear the shrug in his voice. "It wouldn't be the first time I've done it."

"We may have a charge or two in the helicopter as well," points out Natasha. "Usually there is at least one S.H.I.E.L.D. explosive somewhere."

"Right, Iron Man, can you see if you can find what they're talking about?" requests Steve in his 'I'm in command and this isn't actually a request' voice.

"Or, you know, we could make one of the wonder twins do it," retorts Tony, even as the whine of his repulsers echos through the comm channel, indicating he's taken off again.

Darcy shakes her head a little. "Negative. I don't want them going in and out of the building if we can avoid it."

"Yeah, that's kinda unavoidable if we want to blow this place sky-high," points out Clint, the hostility leaking back into his voice. Not for the first time since this mission started, Darcy is considering just outing herself to him. Maybe his attitude would improve if she did. Then again, they'd probably have an argument about her new position over the comms if she said something. "You know, we can do this stuff ourselves _without_ you guys."

"I said I want to avoid it _if possible_," grinds out Darcy as she attempts to keep her temper in check. "That means not having you guys try to sneak back out to pick up explosives that might not be there." Darcy knows her frustration is starting to leak into her voice, but by this point she's bordering on mad. Yeah, logistics screwed up. Big time. But if they continue to treat her and her team like the enemy, shit will keep going bad. "Remember the whole 'half our equipment isn't working right' comment earlier? That wasn't an exaggeration. Which means, I can't promise that I can get you in and out without this whole thing going sideways. Once was risky, twice is probably going to be pushing it, and three times is really asking for trouble. If we can do this without you guys having to creep all the way back out, that's the best option we have."

"I have to agree with Logistics," cuts in Coulson, his voice commanding in that mild way of his. "Unfortunately, this is a far more _complicated_ situation than we were anticipating. Special precautions do need to be taken, as certain individuals have made it _very_ clear what will happen should anyone be injured avoidably again." Clint may have groaned at Coulson's pointed message, but Darcy couldn't be sure over Tony's snickering.

Even Steve sounds amused when he speaks up. "Alright, we'll find a way to get the explosives to you down in the basement. Just stay put."

Darcy sighs, glancing at the material's list in front of her while Steve and the others begin planning a way to get the explosives to Clint and Natasha. At this point, Clint and Natasha have a better idea of the layout of the building than she does, so leaving that conversation to the others seems logical. One of the ingredients on the list catches her eye for a moment, and she quickly mutes her mic before calling out across the room to her team member. "Hey Dawn, how are these explosives usually triggered?"

Dawn glances up from her computer, furrowing her brow a little at the question. "Timers are the most common method. Remote detonation has been used too, but the range of most home-made remote detonators usually renders that method useless."

"Based on the material's you've seen, what kind of detonator is being used in these?" Darcy knows how to make a timer of course; her father taught her how to so she'd know how to disable one if she ever needed to.

The albino woman glances quickly at the list on her computer before spinning back to look at Darcy. "My best guess is a timer system based on the material's list. I haven't seen anything that could be used to construct a signal emitter, but it's possible that they already have the materials on site for that."

Nodding slowly, Darcy can feel an idea forming in her head but she needs more information first. "The chemicals used to make the explosive, how stable are they?"

"None of them are particularly stable," replies Dawn, curiosity clearly piqued. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking that they might be able to put something together to blow this place up without having to find a way for someone to smuggle them explosives," explains Darcy. "What would it take to make any of the chemicals explode?"

Dawn shrugs a little. "A spark. Blowing one of the supply tanks would probably cause a chain reaction and lead to the whole place exploding."

"How big of an explosion are we talking?" presses Darcy. This isn't the best idea she's ever had, but it might be their best option.

"Pretty big," states Dawn with another shrug. "It's hard to say without knowing what size the tanks are."

"Best estimate is in the thousands of gallons," supplies Darcy, relaying Natasha's earlier comment.

"The blast radius would easily encompass a 5 mile area then," estimates Dawn. "The whole building would be gone, along with a large chunk of the surrounding property."

"Widow says she thinks the tanks are made of metal, does that sound right?" queries Darcy as she turns to her computer and takes another glance at the material's list, switching topics. What she's thinking is definitely viable.

"Sounds right," confirms Dawn without pause. "Several of the chemicals would eat straight through plastic. There might be a coating on the outside, but even that's unlikely. The plastic could potentially trap excess heat in a way metal wouldn't and increase the temperature inside the tank, causing an explosion."

Darcy nods, waving for Dawn to join her at her desk. "Alright, hang on for a minute. I'm going live again." Unmuting her mic, she refocuses on the conversation in enough time to hear Tony arguing with Steve about what they're going to do. From the sounds of it, there were no explosives on the chopper. "Strike out on the explosives hunt?"

"Completely," confirms Coulson. "You checked out on us, Logistics. Trouble?"

"No, actually, a plan if anyone wants to hear it," replies Darcy, expecting the grumbles that come from the team. Yeah, yeah, yeah, she heard them the first time. Logistics is stupid, blah, blah, blah.

"I'd like to hear it," insists Coulson. "It might prove useful."

Darcy smirks a little. Useful? Probably. It's the plausibility part that she's still working on. "We were taking another look at the materials that have been sent into that area recently and we're thinking they're building timed devices to detonate the bombs. On top of that, the chemicals used to produce the explosive aren't stable. A spark could set them off. So, the idea is that Widow and Hawkeye could hook up one of Widow's spider-bites to a timed detonator and attach it to the most unstable of the chemical's. The current should be enough to ignite the liquid and blow the place, plus all the components should be right near where Hawkeye and Widow are hiding."

"Except we don't have direct access to the chemicals. Everything is in vats," points out Hawkeye.

Glancing at Dawn, Darcy makes sure the other woman has heard the comment before she hands over the headset. For a moment, Dawn looks a little stunned, but quickly puts the headset on when Coulson's voice calls for Logistics through the headset. "Um, Swan here from Logistics. Look, I've seen the specs for the spider-bites and the current should be strong enough to ignite the tank. All we need is for it to go off. These guys aren't in a sophisticated area and the materials which were shipped in don't include a non-conductive metal in any quantity great enough to construct those tanks. Furthermore, it isn't going to take much to make one of those tanks blow if you select the right one."

"How are we going to do that?" presses Natasha. Darcy can hear their voices clearly, even though she's not wearing the headset. "Neither of us are what you would call chemists."

Dawn glances at Darcy again, who nods in encouragement. "I can tell you which tank to hit. If we get the right one, the whole place will blow sky high."

Darcy smiles and leans back a little for the next half an hour as Dawn walks the team through everything they need to know.

"How are you doing, Widow?" asks Coulson, voice slightly tense.

Darcy has her headset back, having been given it back after Dawn finished explaining what tank needs to be hit. The poor woman had practically shoved the headset back when she was done and scurried back to her desk. Not that Darcy could blame her. The Avenger's weren't being very cooperative at the moment.

"The device is planted," replies Natasha. Darcy can hear the sound of her moving as she slips back down the wall from where she'd been hiding on the ceiling. "The timer is set for 1 hour, which should give us enough time to get out."

"Good," confirms Coulson. "Withdraw. Logistics, how far out is their transportation?"

"ETA 3 minutes at tops," replies Darcy, glancing at Leo for confirmation. The other man nods, indicating everything is good to go. "They should have more than enough time to get out."

"Great," cuts in Clint. "Now, mind guiding us back out?"

Darcy smiles a little. "Depends on if you scarred my team member or not. If she's damaged, I will have all your hides." Dawn looks a little mortified, but Darcy offers her a reassuring smile in return along with a wink, indicating the joke.

"Well, let's hope we didn't then," breaks in Natasha, her own tone amused. "Now, where do we go?"

"Alright guys, you're almost there," informs Darcy. Her body feels tense, like a spring coiled too tightly. She's spent the last half hour helping Clint and Natasha escape the building, with her nerves ratcheting up more and more as each minute passes. "If you turn left, there should be a vertical shaft that'll lead to the roof."

"I can see the vertical shaft," confirms Natasha. There's a soft sound like a pen clicking open, then a thump, like a magnate sticking to thin metal. "And I see sunlight."

Darcy allows the breath she's been holding to escape in a soft sigh, though she knows they are no-where near out of the woods yet. "Alright, can you get up there?"

"Yes," assures Natasha. "We should be out momentarily."

Several minutes pass with only the sound of Natasha and Clint attempting to navigate the ventilation shaft echoing through the comms. When the sound of metal scraping against metal reaches Darcy's ears, she nearly collapses in relief. Then hears the last thing she ever wanted to.

"Freeze." The voice is metallic and digitized, as if the person is speaking through a voice modulator. "Climb out nice and easy. No funny stuff."

And just like that, Darcy relaxes again. They've been caught by an amateur. Sure enough, within the next few seconds the sound of that same non-human voice letting out a groan and the thump of a body tells her the guy is down.

"Hawkeye, Widow, we need to get out of here," instructs Steve. "Logistics, where's our transport?"

"About three minutes North-west of you," replies Darcy, immediately snapping back to attention. "Can you guys get further into the woods? It would be nice if we didn't have to alert everyone to your presence."

"Can do," assures Steve. "How far in?"

"Just start moving North-west of your current position," instructs Darcy. "I'll have the pilot signal you somehow."

Leo holds up a hand, making a motion that makes Darcy's stomach drop out a little.

Muting her mic, she turns her attention to Leo. "Leo, please tell me there isn't a problem."

"There isn't a problem," repeats Leo like a parrot. His words don't make her feel better. "I'm not sure what's going on, but I had the pilot land the chopper three minutes out like you said and told him to keep the blades running. Thing is, I just tried to hail him and he didn't respond."

Darcy felt her eyes close a little, a headache springing to life across her forehead. _Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. This is bad, very, very bad. _"Can you think of any reason why he wouldn't respond?"

"Nothing that's positive," admits Leo, looking more than a little helpless.

Suppressing her groan, Darcy refocuses on the problem at hand. "Do you know where the chopper was?"

"I'm sending you the coordinates now," confirms Leo, fingers flying over the keys.

"Alright, keep trying to hail him," instructs Darcy with a sigh before she reactivates her mic. "Guys, we may have a problem. The helicopter pilot isn't responding to our summons. It's possible there's a glitch in our equipment somewhere, but we doubt it."

There's a groan over the line from someone, probably Clint, and some rather creative cussing from multiple sources. Not that Darcy can blame any of them; she'd be cussing too if she were there. Of course, theoretically Tony and Thor could carry everyone out, but that's a long shot at best.

"So what do we do now?" asks Natasha, voice colored with a touch of concern and some annoyance.

Darcy sighs, not looking forward to what she has to say next. "Well, I have the choppers coordinates. We can guide you to it's last known location. Our equipment is still showing it's where it was during the last check-in."

"And if it's been taken over?" challenges Clint. "What then?"

"Then we take out our enemies and get home," replies Steve, tone commanding. "No one could have foreseen this, so we have to adapt to the situation and hope everything works out."

"We will get you home to your girlfriend, Hawkeye," assures Tony, though he sounds just a touch too smug. "Hell, I'll carry you if need be. She'd probably raise us from the dead and kill us again herself if anything happened to you."

Darcy smiles a little. Damn right she would. "Alright, you guys ready?"

"Lead the way, Logistics," agrees Steve.

Sighing, Darcy glances at the coordinates. "Alright, I pretty much said it all before. Head north-west of your current position. The chopper isn't five miles from your current positions."

"It looks like a pretty clear path," confirms Steve. "We should be able to run it straight."

"Just keep your eyes open," insists Darcy, sending a message to Jack requesting a zoom around where the chopper was last seen. She can see the head signature from the chopper's engines and there looks to be one other signature there as well. "Alright, there's someone ahead at the chopper I think. I'm only seeing one, but there could be more. Approach with caution."

"Yes, ma'am," replies Steve.

For another minute, all Darcy can hear is the sound of the group moving through the underbrush. It's muted in nature, far quieter than anyone would expect it to be given the Hulk is running around. Well, unless Bruce shrunk to his normal size. They never give him a communicator because he usually ends up breaking or loosing it.

When Steve speaks again, his voice is hushed. "I'm not seeing anything ahead. Are we still in the clear, Logistics?"

"As far as I can see," confirms Darcy, eyes darting around the map on the large screen. "Any sign of the pilot?"

"Yes," replies Natasha. "He's apparently having a cigarette." Darcy can feel the urge to hit her head repeatedly on her desk growing with every passing second. Seriously, is everyone incompetent? "And there appear to be a multitude of dead soldiers around him." Scratch that, the man deserves a cigarette.

"He's flagging us over," states Steve. "We're boarding now."

"Good," replies Darcy, eyes flying to the digital countdown timer on her screen. The one that says their homemade bomb is going to go off in less than seven minutes. "Now get out of there. You're pushing your time limit."

"Roger that," shoots back Clint. Then, the noise of the chopper's rotor fills the mics and everything is lost to her. She can hear the wind as they rise and take off, see them moving away on the screen. Not 20 seconds after they are out of the blast radius, a mass of red fills the screen where the labs had once been.

They did it.

Below, her team cheers. Not that she can blame them, this is probably the first successful mission they've pulled off in months where no one has been hurt and the bad guy hasn't gotten away. For her part though, all she can do is collapse into her chair and close her eyes in relief. They're safe, the team is safe. She can hear them chattering lightly over the comm lines, joking with each other and teasing Coulson. For a moment, she lets everyone cheer. Then she pushes the headset back, mutes the mic, and whistles to get everyone's attention.

When the team is looking up at her, she offers them a big grin. "That was epic guys. Normally I'm not one to comment on stuff like that, but you did an amazing job today. And I wanted to say thank you for accepting this administrative switch like you guys did. I know it's not easy to have a real situation pop up as your dry run, but everyone here handled it spectacularly. So, congrats everyone and you guys are free to leave whenever you want to." The startled, wide-eyed looks she gets back following that statements tells her exactly how big of a jackass Edison was. "And yes, I am completely serious. Get me your reports by tomorrow, but otherwise I don't care what you guys do tonight. I'll stay behind to do the post-mission monitoring. I want to compile a list of problems with our equipment anyway."

"Thank you, Darcy," thanks Cal, her eyes still wide in shock. "That's really nice of you."

Darcy smiles at them, shaking her head. "It's part of my position. It's not your jobs to stay behind and finish everything up. So, go relax and have some fun. All of you deserve it."

Several more 'thanks' and 'thank yous' rise up from the group as pretty much everyone grabs their stuff and bolts. When Mac, the last one out, has shut the door, she pulls the headset back on to listen to the Avenger's post-mission chatter while she begins to save and file all the documents they had used that day along with her notes. She's so focused on her work, she barely catches Tony's sudden interruption into the group.

"Hey guys, I'll be right back," informs Tony. "I need to make a phone call."

_Probably to let Pepper know he's alive._ She smirks slightly at the thought of how whipped the man is, only to feel her blood freeze as her own cellphone starts playing 'I'm too Sexy for my Shirt'. Glancing at the screen, she confirms that Tony is calling her. Why is he calling her?

For a second, she hesitates answering but knows he'll probably do something horribly public to get back at her if she does. Thus, she pushes the headset from her ears, checks that the mic is muted, and answers the call. "What's up, Tony?"

"Just calling to let you know your boy is in one piece," replies Tony casually. "Figured you've probably been tense through most of this mission."

"That's good to know Tony, thank you." He called to let her know her boyfriend was alright? Did someone hit Tony over the head with something while she wasn't looking?

Tony's voice echoing out of the speaker draws her attention back to the phone again. "I also wanted to say that you did a good job today. Normally, I wouldn't, but I felt bad that everyone was giving you a hard time."

Darcy nearly falls over. Seriously, the only reason she doesn't is because of her desk. "How did you-?"

"I deal with machines on a daily basis, remember?" reminds Tony. "I'm used to hearing modulated voices. By the way, your microphone is crap. I'm replacing it with a Stark Tech one."

"Um, thank you?" replies Darcy, still too shocked to really reply. Tony is the one calling to tell her she did a good job? _Tony_? "But, Tony, why are you calling me?"

For a moment, Tony doesn't reply. It's a long enough pause that Darcy begins to think they have been legitimately disconnected. Seriously, Tony is never quiet for that long. His voice cuts though the connection before she can prompt him though. "Honestly? It's because I remember what it's like to be trying to change your image and become better when everyone just thinks you're going to fuck it up." He pauses again, but this one is much shorter. "When I became Iron Man, there were all sorts of objects and people telling me I couldn't do it, that I was just going to screw everything up worse than it was. It's not an easy thing to face, and I guess I just wanted to offer some support because I've been there."

Darcy can feel the smile creeping over her features. It's moments like this that she can see why Pepper puts up with Tony. "Thank you, Tony."

She can hear a touch of warmth to his voice when he speaks again. "No problem kid, and don't worry bout me saying anything to the others. I'm sure you'll tell them when you're ready to."

"I'm not planning to keep it a secret for long," assures Darcy. "Fury was going to make the announcement in two weeks. He's just giving me some time to tell Clint before he says anything."

"Well, tell him soon," advises Tony. "That guy is already not gonna be happy."

"No, he's not," agrees Darcy. "But I'm not stepping down either, so he can deal with it."

Tony is definitely grinning when he speaks again. "Good. Listen kid, I'm gonna scramble back with the others. See ya when we land in ten."

"See you then," confirms Darcy before the click of the disconnect echoes through her speaker. Shaking her head, she saves her work and heads out the door towards the hanger. It wasn't the best situation for a dry run. In fact, it was a pretty bad one. But they did it. They brought everyone home alive and got the bad guys. There isn't much more she could have hoped for.


	28. Prompt: Soft

**Prompt: **Soft

**From: **avengers-tables .livejournal **under 50-word prompt (yes, I do intent to use all 50 words)**

**Pairings: **Clint/Darcy

0000000000

It always amazed him how soft she was.

Clint lay in bed silently, eyes watching Darcy as she slept beside him. Her chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, slightly shifting his hand where it rested at her waist. His fingers slid across her bare hip, stroking at the skin there. He did this some nights when he couldn't sleep: watch her and marvel at this amazing woman who had so readily accepted him into her bed. Into her life.

Their time apart, between when he'd gone back to S.H.I.E.L.D and she'd gone back to school, had made him realize how amazing it was to have her in his life in general. Sure, he'd missed the sex. It was hard not to when your girlfriend rocked a body like Darcy's. But he'd also missed laughing with her over random bits of conversation or laying in the sand and staring up at the stars. She was the light in his life, in a way that she'd never actually know.

Like how she'd never know that he had automatically sought her out when he woke up in medical a month ago after falling out of a tree during an op and sustaining a bad concussion. Or how she'd never know that when he had nightmares that sent him flying awake in the dead of night, he could close his eyes and imagine her own soft blue ones to calm himself. Imagine her body pressed against his, warm and inviting. Her fingers tracing through his hair in soft strokes. She soothed his mind and body. Her fingers could return warmth to his soul when he was at his worst, buried so far into his head it was hard for anyone to pull him out.

She was his light, his safety net.

"Clint?" murmured Darcy, drawing his attention to her. Her eyes blinked at him sleepily. "What's wrong?"

Clint gave her a soft smile and leaned over to kiss her. Her lips pressed back against his, soothing his mind in a way nothing else could. "I love you, Darcy."

"Mmm," hummed Darcy, body pressing closer to his: soft curves against hard muscle. God, how he loved her curves. "Love you, too. Doesn't answer my question though."

He chuckled lightly and kissed her throat. "Nothing's wrong. Promise."

She shot him her 'I know your lying' look that made him wonder how she could possibly know so much. Seriously, it was freaky sometimes how she seemed to know what he was thinking. "Try again buddy, I know that wasn't the full truth."

Clint grunted and wrapped both arms around her, rolling them so she was resting on top of him. Her weight was a pleasant press against his body, not confining like it should have been but reassuring that she was safe and with him. "Nothing's wrong. I was just thinking."

Darcy chuckled a little and slid around so she could rest her chin on top of one hand on his chest and slide the other into his hair. "About?"

"You," admitted Clint. "How important you are to me. Your presence in my life. God Darce, I love you."

"I love you too," returned Darcy with a smile, moving so she was straddling him and supporting her weight on her arms and legs. "I'm not going to leave you either. Don't worry."

Clint felt his eyes widen, blinking up at her in shock. He hadn't even realized that had been part of his thoughts before she said anything. Seriously, how did she do that?

She didn't say anything more, just kissed him softly, reassuringly. A gentle press of her lips to his. He held her there for a moment, enjoying the simple touch before pressing harder against her lips and rolling them so she was on her back under him.

"Swear you won't leave?" asked Clint as he buried his face in the crook of her shoulder and neck.

He felt her breath hitch a little, her body stiffening like it sometimes did when he said things like that. She never told him why and he never pushed. Her family life was her own business, and she'd offered little in the way of information on the topic. He accepted this and made it a point not to ask. At times like this though, he wished he knew more. Still, she never pressed him on the topic, so he did the same favor for her.

"I promise I won't leave without a fight," replied Darcy. He noted the escape route she slipped in, a contingency point that took into account the unthinkable. She hadn't done that before, and it offered another clue to her past while adding a multitude of questions to his already long list.

"Deal," muttered Clint, dropping the topic at that point in favor of kissing her senseless. Yeah, he was curious but Darcy clearly wasn't ready to talk and Clint could think of a lot more constructive things they could be doing right then.

Talking could wait.


	29. Prompt: Empty

**So, the reason I haven't posted on this particular piece in a bit is that I've been working on a group of three stories that run back-to-back and I wanted to have them all done before they went up. The final one isn't completely done but it's close so I feel justified in posting this one. **

**This is the first and immediately follows the prompt 'fair'. It covers the meeting between Coulson and Clint. I'm going to apologize RIGHT NOW for Coulson being a bit out of character. This one isn't really funny. There was no good way to make it so. **

**The next one that will come after this actually breaks the prompt series and is completely optional. It's more for anyone who cares to know how Pen gets her memory back. Darcy and Clint aren't in it and like I said it breaks the prompt series so no one has to read it.  
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**The final one will return to the prompt series and I'm hoping to have it finished shortly and up.  
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**Anyway, sorry for the letter. Enjoy the story.  
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**-Illusinia  
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**Prompt: **Empty

**From: **avengers-tables .livejournal **under 50-word prompt (yes, I do intent to use all 50 words)**

**Pairings: **Clint/Darcy, Phil/OFC

* * *

><p>Clint knocked uneasily on Coulson's door at exactly 3, taking care to breath in and out slowly. Darcy had spent most of the morning and afternoon up until he left reassuring him that Coulson wasn't going to do anything to him, but Clint still wasn't comfortable with this. Darcy was Coulson's daughter, she was required to think the best of her father. He wasn't.<p>

"Enter," ordered Coulson from inside. Clint took another deep breath and pushed the door open. Coulson was sitting behind his desk, a ring resting in his fingers. The little gold band rolled between index and thumb, catching the light and reflecting it around the room. A woman's wedding band. Coulson didn't look up as he lay the ring back in a box on his desk, speaking as he did so. "Agent Barton, please, take a seat."

Clint did as he was told without a word, shifting like a five year old in front of the angry principle. Coulson just stared back a Clint for a few minutes, eyes taking in his shifting body and ill-ease. Finally, the older agent stood and moved to lean against the front of the desk. "You can stop acting like a toddler about to be scolded, Agent Barton. I made peace with you dating my daughter before you two even began to formally see each other in Pueto Antigo."

At Clint's confused look, Coulson explained. "She expressed an interest in you the day you saved her from the fire ants. I more or less gave permission." Sighing, he shifted a little, reaching back to pick up the gold band again. "Frankly, I can't think of anyone I'd rather she date. Well...no, not even Mr. Rogers would be sufficient for my little girl."

"But I am?" questioned Clint, finally managing to find his voice. Shock was just one of _many_ emotions currently running through him.

Coulson offered him a faint smile. "She chose to tell you about her abilities, opened herself up to you in ways she's never done with anyone outside of the family. For her to do that, she has to see something in you that makes you ideal for her." He spun the ring between his index and middle finger tips slowly, before closing his fingers over the small metal band. "Her mother did the same thing with me." The words were sad and faint, more of a whisper than a statement directed at him.

"Sir?" asked Clint quietly, furrow between his eyes. His gaze fell to the ring in his commander's hand and, suddenly, he couldn't help but wonder what had happened. Couldn't help wondering _how_ her mother had been lost to them both. How Phil had survived the loss with a child to look after.

"You'll feel like you don't deserve her sometimes," continued Coulson, his voice again normal, casual. Like they were discussing the weather. "When she's able to help you or read you so easily and you can't do the same to her because she's dealing with something you don't understand, you'll feel like you don't deserve her."

Clint shook his head slowly, a hand rubbing through his hair. "I already feel that way." His eyes slid to focus on the floor rather than Coulson, his voice dropping to something more akin to a loud whisper. "Every day, I wonder what I've done to deserve someone...wonderful like her."

Coulson shrugged a little, his hand tightening on the ring. "I wondered almost constantly some days what Pen saw in me. She always described it as a presence, some form of energy that she found comforting."

"Darcy's said the same," admitted Clint, eyes rising to look back at his boss. "Sir, how did you do it? How...how have you survived?"

Coulson's lips turned up a little at the question. "I wondered if you would ask. Truthfully, Darcy. When I felt the worst, I reminded myself that my daughter needed me more than ever. That someone needed to remain around to protect her."

Clint nodded slowly, eyes falling to the floor again. "I...can understand that."

"As soon as you held Molly, you understood that," stated Coulson knowingly. Clint didn't argue. Another heavy sigh fell from Coulson, belying a weariness that he never showed. Quietly, he moved to sit in the chair beside Clint's own. "It hurts a lot when you loose someone close to you. I just hope neither you nor Darcy ever have to face that reality."

For a moment, neither one said a word before Clint managed to gather the courage to speak again. "What happened? To Darcy's mother. She...she never told me. I'm not completely sure she knows."

"She's read the report," assured Coulson, his free hand scrubbing over is face. "I gave it to her when she was 12, at the same time I told her that her mother wasn't actually dead as she'd been told."

Clint paled, choking a little. "You told her that her mom was dead?"

Coulson began worrying the ring between his fingers again, eyes focused on the band of gold. "It's one of the mistakes I've made as a father. One of many, I might add. You'll make your own as well, for the record."

"I figured as much," muttered Clint.

"If there is one you can ever avoid though, it's lying to Molly," continued Coulson. "I still regret not telling Darcy what was going on from the beginning. Maybe if I had, she would have been able to do something more than what S.H.I.E.L.D. did." Coulson cleared his voice a little, stress apparent in his tone. "But that isn't what we're discussing. You wanted to know what happened to Pen, correct?"

"Yes, sir," confirmed Clint.

Coulson nodded, a hand coming up to rub at his eyes. "Pen was on guard duty in the science labs. Basic duty. Fury assigned her down there because she could actually understand what the scientists were saying more than the rest of us too. Looking back, I think he had her tracking a potential mole as well. She could read people like Darcy can." Coulson paused for a moment, drawing in a deep breath. "There was an explosion while she was in the labs. Of course, she did what she was trained to and got the scientists out first. Which was why the second explosion caught and threw her out a window."

"Shit," muttered Clint. He couldn't imagine anyone telling him Darcy had been in an accident like that. "Were you..."

"There?" prompted Coulson. "Not in the labs, but I was two floors down and directly in front of the place where Pen...landed."

Mentally, Clint kicked himself for ever bringing this up. How he could have ever thought it wouldn't be exceptionally painful, he wasn't sure.

Coulson pushed forward quickly, apparently wanting to get this matter over with. "They rushed Pen to the hospital after that. She was unconscious for five hours and twenty-three minutes. The doctors all said she was lucky, that she would survive and be just fine. But when she woke up, she didn't remember anything. Not me or Darcy or her job with S.H.I.E.L.D. Nothing from after she joined the FBI."

"FBI?" asked Clint.

"We recruited her from them," explained Coulson. "Well, Fury recruited her from the FBI after she cracked three of my ribs."

Clint couldn't stop himself from coking a little at that. "She cracked your ribs? And Fury made her your partner?"

Coulson shrugged, a touch of a smile on his lips. "It was my fault for sneaking up on someone with her martial arts background."

"Still," muttered Clint. "That's like what you did to..."

"You and Natasha?" suggested Coulson, his eyes rising back to Clint's as the pieces fell into place.

Clint shook his head in disbelief. "You knew it would work out because it did for you and Penelope."

Coulson offered Clint the touch of a smile that said 'I know more than you do' as he moved towards his desk and picked up a framed photograph. He offered the photo to Clint for examination, to Clint's surprise.

The photo showed fifteen people gathered together as a group in front of a fountain. All of them wore the standard black suit used by all S.H.I.E.L.D Agents, but every one of them were grinning widely. Including the man Clint immediately identified as Fury. Which was more than a little creepy. Fury was positioned in the middle and back of the group, with everyone else gathered around him. A young man stood immediately to his left, offering a nervous smile to the camera. Though that might have been at least in part due to the shorter woman who was leaning back against him with her arms wrapped around his neck. His own hands were resting on her hips, though Clint couldn't tell if he was pulling her against him or attempting to hold her at a respectable distance. Every other person present was looking at them out of the corner of their eyes and what had originally looked like grins more resembled smirks.

Clint could take a guess as to who the two were, especially given there was only one woman present in the picture, but he felt the need to confirm it. "Is it safe to assume the guy and girl who are practically wrapped around each other are you and Penelope?"

Coulson nodded, taking the photo back from Clint's outstretched hand. "That was six months after she cracked my ribs."

"It only took you two six months?" asked Clint, surprised by how fast his boss had moved.

"We didn't begin dating until three years after our partnership began," replied Coulson. "We were comfortable with each other after six months though. The same thing occurred with you and Natasha."

"Yeah, but we were never that close," argued Clint. "I mean, yeah, sometimes I think we live in each other's heads, but Natasha would never wrap herself around me like that for any reason short of a direct order or to save a mission."

"Natasha isn't energy sensitive either," pointed out Coulson. "She doesn't feel the need to initiate physical contact with you because she's able to under any situation."

"True," admitted Clint with a sigh, leaning back in his chair heavily. He paused for a second, mind seeming to process something before he leaned forward again. "Is that why Darcy is always reaching out to touch me?"

Coulson nodded. "Physical contact is a sacrifice for her with few exceptions."

"But I'm an exception?" asked Clint, wanting to confirm that he was understanding this correctly.

"I wouldn't allow you to marry her if you weren't," confirmed Coulson.

"Good to know," muttered Clint with a sigh and glance at his watch. "Sir, I hate to be rude, but was there anything else?"

Coulson allowed a touch of a smile to grace his lips, sad as it was. "Feeling the need to see Darcy and Molly?"

"Yes, sir," admitted Clint.

Coulson nodded and stood, tucking the ring back into its box and slipping the box into his jacket pocket. "Very well, you're dismissed Agent Barton."

"Thank you, sir," replied Clint before he practically ran out the door. He didn't see the smile Coulson sent in his direction or notice the wistful look on his boss's face as he watched Clint bolt from the room.

_What did you do to Clint?_

Darcy's text message sent Phil's phone nearly vibrating of the counter. He put the razor down beside the sink and read his daughter's text before allowing a slight smirk to touch his features. _Nothing, why?_

_Cause he's barely let me or Molly out of his sight since he got back. Did you tell him about Mom or something?_

_He asked,_ was Coulson's simple response before he set the phone back down and returned to shaving. He wasn't about to go on a date without having shaved first. Plus, tonight was special.

Little did Phil know exactly how special tonight would be.


	30. Prompt: Abrupt, Part I

**So, abrupt is kind of being split into two parts. Kind of. Technically, this isn't necessary to understand the rest of abrupt. It's more of a 'hey, here's what happened' bit rather than a 'look at the cuteness that is Darcy and Clint' prompt. In fact, Darcy and Clint aren't in this segment. Rather, this is focused on Pen and Phil because I have been asked a little about Pen and I wanted to post how she recovered for anyone who wanted to know. It's still sappy cuteness of course, just for a different pair.**

**Anyway, this part is optional so read it if you want or don't if you don't care or want to know. The third part of this should be out next week (assuming my thesis doesn't kill me; FYI, working with materials contaminated with arsenic sucks). I'll try to get it done this weekend, but I'm not hopeful with everything else that I need to worry about.  
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**Enjoy whoever wants to read this,  
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**Illusinia  
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**Prompt:** Abrupt part I

**Pairing:** Phil/OFC (Pen)

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><p>"<em>Hey Phil, you like jazz right?" asked Pen as she leaned against the back of his chair to peer over his shoulder.<em>

_Glancing up at his partner, Penelope Madison, Phil Coulson cocked an eyebrow and leaned backwards more in his chair. She continued to look at his computer screen. "I like jazz music, why?"_

"_'Cause Nick gave us the night off and told me to make sure you actually left the office, so I figured I'd see if you wanted to go to a jazz club I've heard good things about," explained Pen as she reached over to correct a spelling mistake on his screen and add a comma to one of his sentences. He allowed her to do it._

"_Sounds interesting," agreed Phil as he glanced back at his screen. "Wouldn't you rather go alone though?"_

_Pen's brow furrowed and it was her turn to shoot Phil a raised eyebrow. "Why would I want to go alone?"_

"_Because it would give you the chance to flirt to your heart's content..." his eyes narrowed at his partner in suspicion. "What else did Director Fury say?" Pen shifted a little and looked back at his screen, reaching out to make another correction. Phil grabbed her wrist before she could touch his keyboard again. "Pen..."_

"_Nick told me in no uncertain terms that we needed to deal with the tension between us," admitted Pen with a huff. "In lay-mans terms, he wants us to go on a date."_

_Phil's brow furrowed further and he released Pen's wrist. "Why would Director Fury want us to date?"_

"_Go on a date," corrected Pen with a shrug, one hand rubbing mindlessly at the wrist he'd grabbed. He knew she wasn't hurt, the action was a nervous reflex. "And I don't know. He said something about the sexual tension driving everyone mad."_

"_Sexual tension?" questioned Phil. "That makes no sense."_

"_Tell me about it," agreed Pen as she moved to lean against his desk and put some room between them._

_Phil ignored the fact that he was disappointed when she moved away. "So, how are we handling this?"_

_Pen shrugged. "I figured we'd go to the jazz place, get some food, then go our separate ways and tell Fury we did what he said tomorrow."_

"_So, the same thing we do every night," nodded Phil._

"_Without the 'trying to take over the world' aspect," confirmed Pen with a grin. Of course, she was joking about that. They'd only discussed taking over the world on one of their many post-work dinner meetings. "So, is it a date?"  
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_Phil smirked slightly and nodded. "That sounds like an excellent plan. Would you like me to pick you up tonight?"  
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"_If you want," agreed Pen with a shrug as she turned to head for the elevators. "See you at 7."_

"_Roger," agreed Phil smugly before turning back to his work._

* * *

><p>Phil felt his stomach tighten a little as he watched Pen walk out of the back room where the orchestra stored their instruments. Her cello was slung across her back, dark hair swaying from side to side as she walked out with one of her fellow musicians. The other man was clearly smitten with her, but Pen brushed off every advance he made with a swift and mildly threatening gesture. Phil's hands tightened around the flowers in his hands: nightshade, morning glory, and double purple datura. All of Pen's<p>

favorites.

Across the room, her eyes flew to Phil and she offered him a smile and wave, moving away from the jack-ass who was hitting on her in favor him coming towards him. It was hard to keep the sigh of relief from actually escaping his throat. He was a secret agent, damnit! He should be able to woo his wife again without turning into a love sick puppy like the first time around.

As Pen leaned up to kiss his cheek and ask how his day was though, he knew the whole love-sick-puppy thing was going to happen again. There was no avoiding it.

Offering her a smile, he handed her the flowers he'd brought. "It was...uneventful. Your own?"

"You're lying," stated Pen, though she didn't look at all upset as she took the flowers and gave the blooms a sniff. "Thank you, these are my favorites. And my day was the same as every day. Go in, practice like crazy, get hit on by my fellow orchestra members, and then come out to find you holding a lovely bouquet of flowers just for me."

"That doesn't happen every day," pointed out Phil with a touch of his own smile. "Sometimes I bring you tickets or other small gifts instead."

Pen smiled softly and shook her head. "True. Nice avoidance maneuver by the way. If you don't want to tell me or can't, I won't be offended."

Phil sighed, moving to slip her cello from her shoulder and slid it onto his own before his hand came to rest at the base of her back, low enough to stake a claim. Pen said nothing and let his hand remain there. "I was going to discuss this with you tonight, but I suppose I can start now." He paused for a moment, eyes taking in the woman beside him. "Pen, I haven't been completely honest with you about my family."

"I already knew that," stated Pen with a shrug, shifting the flowers in her arms to a more comfortable position. "Let me guess, this is about your daughter? More specifically, the woman who answered your phone the one day I called?"

He felt his face attempt to reflect his surprise, and let it. Pen was the only one paying attention to him, and it didn't really matter if he attempted to hide his emotions or not: she would always know. "You knew she was my daughter?"

"Based on the questions she asked and how surprised she sounded without sounding angry, I guessed she was family, but not a wife or girlfriend," explained Pen. "Her questions were too personal to be a secretary, at least one who wasn't either noisy or crushing on her boss. She sounded surprised, meaning she wasn't expecting a woman to call you, but there was a distinct undertone of happiness in there meaning she was glad you had someone in your life. When I mentioned her last name at dinner, and you nearly spit out your wine, I knew she had to be your daughter."

"I wasn't that obvious," grumbled Phil halfheartedly. Truthfully, Pen would have known the extent of his surprise. She always knew. He'd been more worried than anything. Not about Darcy, but about if he would need to maim Barton or not. Fury would have probably been pissed if he had.

Pen's gentle laugh brought him back to the moment at hand, reminding him of the woman who stood beside him. A faint blush rose to his cheeks, and not entirely because it sounded like she was laughing at him. "Keep telling yourself that. Though, admittedly, I could have timed that better."

"A little," confirmed Phil as he opened the passenger side door of the car.

She gave him a grateful smile as she slid in while he slipped her cello into the back seat of the car. When he was in the drivers seat beside her, one of her hands came to rest on his leg, not in a sexual way but in the 'I really need human contact right now' way that he remembered so well. It reminded him that the Pen he knew was still inside, just perhaps a little different from before. And reinforced that dating her again was a good idea.

"So, where are we going tonight?" asked Pen curiously, her hand remaining where it rested.

Phil smiled as he put the car into drive and pulled out, fond memories of the place they were going slipping through his mind. "Pen, do you like jazz?"

_Two hours later found Phil standing outside the door to Pen's S.H.I.E.L.D apartment in slacks and a button down that was unbuttoned at the throat. He had a blazer in the car as well. One of his hands rose to knock at her door and waited for her answer._

_The door opened not five seconds later, revealing Pen as she grabbed her jacket and a purse. It took all of Phil's considerable training and willpower not to stare, squirm, or allow his body to react when he laid eyes on her. Pen was beautiful, he'd noticed that when they first met. She was quick witted, stubborn, inclined to challenge him if she didn't like what he was saying, wicked, fond of pranks, blunt when she wanted to be, and gloriously sarcastic. Normally, he thought of her as the friend she was, ignoring the fact that she was, in fact, a woman. Sadly, the image before him would forever ruin any original impressions he had of her._

_Her dress was the most stunning shade of green Phil had ever seen in a dress. It literally looked as if someone had taken a handful of mature leaves and somehow extracted the pure essence of their color to create the fabric. It hung to halfway down her shins and, when set against her brown hair and blue eyes, made her look like the incarnation of a nature goddess. Her hair, normally tamed in some kind of a pony tail or bun (messy as it might be), hug around her in glorious waves he wanted to touch. The make-up around her eyes was smoky and made them appear even more blue than usual. A hint of red lipstick made her lips very tempting, finishing off the entire look._

_God, he wanted to touch her. And not in an innocent way either. Bad Phil, bad._

"_You good to go?" asked Pen with a raised eyebrow as she threw a trench coat over her dress._

_With the dress covered, Phil felt some of his brain kick back into gear. "If you are."_

"_Let's go then," replied Pen with a grin as she grabbed his arm and started towards the front door of her building._

_Somehow, the contact actually helped him shake the strange daze-like feeling that had come over him. It was normal for her to link arms with him, normal for her to initiate skin contact. Well, it had become normal. She hadn't done that when they first started working together. Really, she hadn't started doing that until after a bad mission in Moscow. Still, it had become normal for her to link their arms and it helped remind him what he was doing._

You're going to a jazz club with your partner and friend. It's Pen for Christ's sake. You don't think of her like that, remember?_ Of course, that was an absolute lie. He'd had the dreams that left him shaking with the image of her naked still fresh in his mind to prove it. The bigger issue was that she didn't see him like that. _

"_Get out of your head for the night, Phil," teased Pen as she drew him towards his car. "You've gotta loosen up a little."_

_Phil raised his eyebrow with a soft smile. "This coming from you, Pen?"_

"_Hey, I resemble that implication!" complained Pen with a grin as she walked around to her door. Phil was tempted to open it for her but didn't want to be accused of thinking her incapable of opening a door. Not that he really thought she would say that, especially given the fact that she cracked three of his ribs when they met._

_Offering her a smirk, he slid into the drivers seat and started the car. "So, where is this place?"_

Pen stepped out of her bedroom ten minutes after she went in, walking to the main room in a dress that made Phil's jaw drop. Well, nearly. He managed to keep it in place through sheer willpower alone. God, and to think he knew what lay under that dress..._Do NOT go there Phil! You've managed to avoid sleeping with her thus far and it's been nearly a year. Don't pin her to a wall now and ruin everything, Just don't._

"Will this work?" asked Pen, spinning in her dress. In the same pure green dress she'd worn the first time they went out to the club. That first night they'd gone on a date.

_I'm dead._ Phil cleared his throat a little and nodded, not completely trusting his voice but knowing he should probably give a verbal response anyway. God, he felt 17 all over again. Or 26, given that was the first time he saw Pen in that dress. How did it even still _fit_ her? "Yes, that's perfect."

Her lips turned up a little as she moved closer, sliding right next to his body. "You look stunned Phil, did you think I lived in the orchestra blacks?"

"Clearly not, given I've seen you in a sun-dress _and_ workout clothes," reminded Phil, hoping his remark would help jump-start his brain a little and bring some thoughts to mind other than what had happened the first night they went to this club. Unfortunately, it just brought some of his other thoughts that had come up when they'd been out running together or sparring in the gym (Pen still remembered the self-defense training her father had taught her). It wasn't helping at all. _Mind out of the gutter, Phil. Now!_

"Eh," Pen shrugged and moved towards her hall closet, extracting a pair of low heels in a blue-black color. He watched as she slid them on, realizing how long her legs looked all over again. God, he was pathetic. And so incredibly screwed. She gathered her purse and jacket from the table beside her door before turning to him with a cocked eyebrow. "You good to go or do you need a minute? I think your tongue is somewhere on the floor and your jaw is under the couch."

The faint blush from earlier came back, prompting him to clear his throat and attempt to speak. "I apologize. That was rude."

A wicked smile touched the edges of Pen's lips, reminding him of the one Darcy sometimes wore when she was right and knew it. Or when she'd gotten her way about something through trickery. "Honestly, I was hoping you'd have some reaction. Otherwise I was going to believe you were gay and just trying to hide from it."

Phil shot her a 'really' eyebrow before he crowed her against her front door, dropping his voice low. There may have been a touch of a growl in there. "Believe me, Penelope, I am very, _very_ attracted to you."

"I can tell," teased back Pen as she wiggled a little against him. "So, are we actually going out tonight or staying here? I can think of a few things I wouldn't mind doing here..."

"Going out," cut in Phil firmly. He lowered his lips beside her ear, muttering to her in a voice that said exactly what he was feeling. "When we get back tonight, I have plans. But I also happen to know that everything is a little better when you have to wait for it."

Pen chuckled darkly, a dramatic sigh falling from her smirking lips. "You're one of those guys into prolonged foreplay, aren't you?"

"Only because I happen to know how effective it is," explained Phil as he stepped back, straightening his shirt a little. The next words out of his mouth were completely unplanned and nearly made him want to bang his head against the door. "It's how I ended up with my daughter."

"Nice," nodded Pen approvingly. "Alright, I'm willing to play ball. But there _will_ be protection in place tonight, understand?"

"Perfectly," assured Phil. "My granddaughter is enough of a hand-full as things stand, I have no wish to add another child to that list."

Pen smiled, sliding her arm into his as she maneuvered them out the front door, locking it behind her before they started down the hall. "Granddaughter? Just how old _is_this daughter of yours anyway?"

"Twenty-four," replied Phil, slipping his arm out of hers and wrapping it around her lower back.

"Accident?" quarried Pen with a knowing smile.

The smile nearly made Phil bulk. He'd been keeping tabs on Pen since her memories were altered and she was transferred to Seattle. He knew she hadn't had another child. So why did she have that look on her face? "Yes. Have you had that experience before?"

Pen shook her head a little, an odd look crossing her face as if she were uncertain about what she was about to say. Her next words were slow, uncertain. "I'm not sure, to be honest. Something, well, something is strange about my memory. I went to a doctor once to get birth control pills, and he asked when I'd had my baby. Only, I've never been pregnant to my knowledge." She paused again, and Phil had to work very hard to keep his heart-rate down.

Fury had said when they altered her memories there was a chance that some things would stick. That she'd have vague recollections about a few things. Darcy had been one of the things there was a chance Pen could remember. Apparently, most women remembered their children to some degree no matter what.

"That is strange," agreed Phil, attempting to keep his voice neutral as they reached the street.

Pen nodded slowly, her eyes slightly narrowed in concentration. "The strangest part is that, I can remember a little girl with brown hair calling me 'mommy'." Shaking her head slightly, she raised her eyes towards the sky, staring up at the night filled with so much light pollution the stars were invisible. "The hardest part is, these memories hit at the strangest times. Walking by the playground in Central Park, the American Museum of Natural History, even down by the river once. It's...surreal."

Phil bit his lip and contemplated his question for a moment, debating if he should ask or not. If it would give him away. Still, he had to know. "When did this start?"

"When I moved to New York," replied Pen. "In Seattle, I had dreams on occasion that involved a little girl and a man who's face I could never see well, but not like this. These feel more like memories...honestly though, I don't know. It's not a big deal."

"No, of course not," agreed Phil as he opened the passenger side door and helped Pen in. The time it took him to walk around the car was spent slowing his heart-rate again. She remembered. Not well, not completely, not even enough to know it wasn't a dream, but she remembered. Taking solace in this knowledge, he slid into the driver's seat and started the car.

_Phil was surprised how well hidden the club was. There was a simple sign above the door declaring the place to be named _"Jitter's"._ There were no other signs that a club rested inside. Well, until Phil opened the front door. Strands of jazz music flooded his ears, not so loud as to be impossible to hear over, but lively and compelling. The sounds of a big band._

_Pen slipped past him, swinging her hips a little to the music as she went in. The motion caught his attention, drawing his eyes to her back-side for a moment. He didn't allow his eyes to remain there. She might hurt him if she caught him staring._

_He slipped in after her, shadowing her to the coat check and leaving his jacket and hers with the man behind the counter. The attendant's eyes swept over her quickly, taking in her dress and form. Phil could see the same gobsmacked expression he'd felt attempting to take over his face earlier on the man behind the counter. It would have made him smile if the flash of emotion he refused to acknowledge as jealousy hadn't swept through him._

_Instead, he brought one of his hands up to rest on her lower back and sent the coat check attendant a subtle glare. Well, at least he thought it was a subtle glare. The way Pen started shaking with restrained laughter beside him as he led her inside said she knew exactly what was going on._

"_Careful Phil, you're showing emotion," cautioned Pen teasingly. She'd always enjoyed teasing him about the lack of emotion he showed. That and his supposed robot status._

"_Well, we aren't all as sonic as you," returned Phil, face deadpan. Of course, Pen was rarely sonic. Snarky, sarcastic, dry, and a slew of other words that meant similar things, yes. Sonic, no._

_Pen gave him her best fake affronted look. If he didn't know better, he'd swear she was related to Tony Stark at times. Of course, if he ever had to deal with Tony Stark, Pen's presence would be necessary. He could deal with Pen because he knew she was messing around. Stark, well, he might taze the man._

"_I'm hurt Phil! Are you saying I can't be sonic?" objected Pen. Of course, her affront was completely faked. She knew she wasn't sonic. Could be, but wasn't usually. He'd seen her do it a few times when lining up for a long-range shot. And the few times he'd seen it had terrified him._

_His arm steered her towards the host station, his hand flashing two fingers at the man standing behind the podium to indicate there were only two of them. "I never said that, Pen. Your stoicism just scares me."_

_She halted in front of the podium, forcing Phil to stop too as she looked up at him with furrowed brows. "I scare you?"_

"_Only when you loose all emotion," repeated Phil gently. "It isn't natural on you, Pen. It's like looking at a robot, without your charming personality attached."_

_Pen snorted slightly and shook her head. "So you're the only one allowed to be a robot in this partnership?"  
><em>

"_Yes," confirmed Phil, a small smirk forming on his lips. "You have to play the role of the potentially deranged woman who is most likely to make sure they never find the body."_

_For a second, Pen considered his reasoning even as he gently moved her along with slight pressure on her lower back. "Alright, I can accept that logic."_

_Phil felt his smile grow. Pissing off his partner was bad for his health. And the health of others. More 'others' than himself._

_Out of the corner of his eye, he caught her own smirk turning up her lips. "Then again, I would expect nothing but perfect logic from a robot."_

_Phil was grateful for the control he had over his facial muscles. It always hurt a little when Pen called him a robot, for reasons he would not acknowledge. Just as he would not acknowledge that he wanted to do things to Pen that a partner should not want to do to their counterpart. Even if said partner looked like a goddess on Earth in that dress._

_The brush of her fingers against his drew his attention back to reality as she moved away to pull out her chair. Phil didn't move to assist her, mostly because he didn't want to get his ass kicked. The grateful look that Pen gave him made the disdainful one from their host tolerable._

"_Here are your menus, your waiter will be with you shortly," informed their host before turning and strolling away._

Phil rested his hand on Pen's lower back as he opened the nondescript door to "Jitter's". He knew the move was a touch possessive, but he couldn't help it. The thought of watching anyone else hit on Pen, even if she was dating him, made him a touch sick. Of course, he knew the reason for the sick feeling was fear. Fear that she would find someone else; that she would walk out of his life for a second time. Even with Darcy and Molly, it would be hard to face that.

He slid Pen's coat from her shoulders, handing it to the coat check attendant with his own. Pen flashed him a polite smile, even though he could see the glint of mischief in her eyes. She knew his game, recognized his intentions for what they were. And she was willing to indulge him. It made his heart swell a little.

"So, what is this place?" asked Pen curiously, eyes darting around as she looped her arm in Phil's. "And why have I never heard of it if they play jazz?"

Phil smiled slightly to cover his wince. It hurt in some ways when she said things like that. A reminder that their history didn't exist to her. Though he would never admit it, and would never let it deter him, it hurt Phil to realize that she could forget him so easily. Even if it wasn't her fault.

"It's a jazz club," explained Phil, smile still in place as he guided her towards the host. The man at the podium gives him a look, but he just holds up two fingers. The host nodded and grabbing two menus before motioning for them to follow him. "And you've probably never heard of it because it's a local place, somewhat underground, and hard to find."

Pen hummed a little, a smile tilting up her lips. "I see, and how did you manage to find it Mr. Transplant from Michigan?"

"Luck," replied Phil, smile dropping into more of a smirk. "And a little local knowledge, courtesy of a work associate."

By now, the host had led them to a table near the dance floor. The main dining room is more of a massive room with a live jazz band at one end and a large part of the floor in front of the band cleared for dancing. It has the feel of an older club, the kind featuring Big Band style music.

Phil doesn't say anything as he pulls out Pen's chair to offer her a seat, smirk shifting back into a grin as she rolls her eyes but takes the offered seat none the less. There are some things he can get away with, but some she still just gives him the look of 'I can do that myself you know'. When he picks her up from the orchestra, she always seems more compliant than he knows she is. The woman challenged him to ask her out, making it more of a threat by saying she'd ask him if he didn't make a move soon. So to see her just roll with his gentleman act is always a little unsettling, but he knows she'll relax back into herself as the night goes on.

"Is that what they're calling it these days?" teased Pen as she opened the menu the host handed to her before vanishing back to his post. "Well, tell your 'work associate' that it's a nice place."

Somehow, he manages not to cringe at her implication. Or make any sort of a face which will give away how much her words hurt, even if they weren't supposed to. Hearing her say it like that reminds him too much of how 'work associate' for them used to mean exactly what she's implying. "I'll be sure to pass on your message."

Her menu drops slightly so she can look at Phil over the top edge. "Phil?"

It's a single word, his name, but her tone is asking so much more. 'Are you alright', 'did I go too far', and, perhaps the hardest to hear from her, 'do you want to talk about it'. Still, he doesn't really answer, instead taking a drink from his water-glass before gesturing at the wine menu. "Do you have preference tonight?"

_She laughed at him when he ordered wine, as she always did. Teased him for being more of a girl than she was and accused him of not being able to hold his liquor, which she knew was false. She'd seen him down multiple shots of some very strong liquors and walk away on stable legs. They teased each other out of tradition, not malice. And when their drinks arrived, Phil smoothly swiped her drink from her hands and pressed his wine glass into it's place. Her eyebrows shot up, giving him her 'what the hell' look._

"_Taste it," insisted Phil, knowing he was issuing her a challenge. They often did this, swiping each others drinks away for tastes or passing their own drinks off to the other so they could try different things. The occasional drink was also stolen to force the other to try something new. It was a game, and neither of them had ever backed down._

_Keeping her eyebrow cocked, she brought the glass to her lips and took a sip. If ever asked, Phil would deny to his dieing day that the look of determination she gave him through her lashes made him shift in his seat. A touch of something else flashes across her eyes, something that resembled success. Of course she would know what that particular look did to him. There were days he swore she was psychic, and he didn't even believe in such things._

"_Not bad," she admitted, setting the glass back in front of him and swiping back her own drink. "But I'll stick to my lighter fluid." _

"_I stand by my statement at the time," replied Phil with a touch of a smirk. "No liquor should taste so vile."_

_Pen rolled her eyes a little, but she was still smiling. "It was vodka, Phil. Good, strong vodka."_

"_Good is a relative term," argued Phil, taking a sip of his wine. "There is good and then there is 'I no longer have my taste buds'. Your drink that night was the former."_

"_Says the man who drinks glorified fruit-juice," teased Pen._

_Phil just smiled and tilted his glass in her direction. "I will find one you like one day, and then you will never go back."_

"_In your dreams." Pen's smile was wide by that point, her mirth clearly hard to restrain. "Now, lets figure out what to order before the waiter gets annoyed with us. I'd rather not make a bad impression here, just because I'm pretty sure I'll come back even if the food sucks."_

"_It's hard to find a good jazz club," agreed Phil as he popped open his menu. "Any preferences?"_

_Pen shook her head, eyes daring around. "Nope. I was actually considering closing my eyes and pointing blindly at something."_

_The sad part was that Phil knew she was being serious. He'd seen her do it on multiple occasions. The one time she'd convinced him to try it, he'd picked the only thing on the menu he wouldn't actually eat and had refused to try it again ever since. _

"_I've never understood how you can stand to do that," stated Phil with a shake of his head. "Or how you've managed it without getting something you didn't like."_

"_Oh, I've gotten stuff I didn't like before," admitted Pen easily, eyes darting across the menu. "But it's fun because you never know what you'll get. Besides, my dad and I used to do that a lot when we'd go out to eat. It was kind of a tradition between us."_

_Well, that was new. He knew her father had died just before she went into the FBI, but it was rare that she mentioned him. Usually she only did so when she was feeling particularly relaxed. The thought that she relaxed so easily around him brought a smile to his face. "So, I'll assume you intend to carry on that tradition with your own children?"_

"_If I ever decide I want them," confirmed Pen with a shrug. "Not exactly high on my priority list right now." Her eyes darted up to meet his, an eyebrow rising in question. "How about you?"_

_Phil shrugged as casually as he could. "Maybe, if I ever meet a woman I'd want children with." _

_He wasn't going to mention that a few months back, while delusional as the result of a fever, he'd had a dream that he had a beautiful little girl with the woman currently sitting across from him. When the fever had broken, he'd been left feeling guilty and a little sick over his subconscious' traitorous thoughts. Pen didn't even see him like that, and there he was imaging them with children. It had disgusted him._

"_Makes sense," replied Pen with a nod. "It's not a good idea to have kids with a woman you despise."_

_The corner of Phil's lips quirked up a little, nodding. "Or a super-villain. They do not make good familial partners unless you are one yourself."_

"_I don't know, I'm pretty sure a pair of mad scientists would make the worst parents," stated Pen. _

_Her words made Phil's chest constrict a little, but he didn't say a word about it. There was no way she could know about that. It wasn't even in his S.H.I.E.L.D. record. Glancing up, he caught her looking at him with concern. _

_He managed to give her a reassuring smile in return."It would be hard to know you're being ignored in favor of world domination."_

_Pen shook her head, smiling slightly. "I meant it would be hard to keep the fact that they're actually world-dominating super-villain genius' a secret, not that they'd make bad parents. I don't think occupation matters in terms of how fit someone is to be a parent. No sane or even moderately insane person would hurt their own children for any reason. Not unless they are a real monster."_

"_No, they wouldn't," agreed Phil as he forced his mind to refocus on the night. His own history was exactly that, history. There was no way he would ruin this night for anything. Quickly, he flipped his menu back open. "Have you decided what you want to eat?"_

_Pen nodded, closing her menu and focusing on Phil. "Yeah, I did. You?"_

_Phil glanced over the menu, selecting a pasta and seafood dish before closing his own menu. "Ready when you are."_

"_Good," replied Pen, reaching out to gently grip his hand while turning in her seat to flag down their server._

Phil can barely restrain his smug smile as Pen orders a mixed drink involving vodka for herself and a glass of a very familiar wine for him. The one that finally got her drinking wine to begin with: Bonterra Chardonnay. A wine he is going to make her try again, tonight. Hopefully with the same results.

On one level, it hurts a little to be in this place again. He can still remember their first time there and everything that happened that night. Being here again dredges up memories he hadn't even recalled, but he wouldn't change his decision either. It's their one year anniversary, one whole year that they have been dating, again. And even if the significance of this place is lost on Pen _now_, he still remembers everything 'Jitters' represented to them.

"Are you alright, Phil?" asked Pen, one of her hands covering his and drawing him back to the present time and place. "You seem distracted tonight."

"Just thinking," deflected Phil easily, eyes focusing entirely on the beautiful woman seated across from him again. "It was a long night last night."

A small smile spread over Pen's lips. "Babysitting?"

"My daughter's husband-to-be has been out of town for nearly two weeks," explained Phil. "Suffice to say, she was happy to have him home and exhausted from playing 'single parent' for two weeks. I offered to take my granddaughter for a night so they could rest."

"And how did playing single father work out for you?" asked Pen as their drinks arrived.

She went to pick hers up for a sip, but Phil easily swiped it from her reach and pressed his wine glass into her hand instead. Her eyebrow rose into her 'what the hell' look, and for a moment Phil almost felt like his heart might burst from his chest.

Swallowing, he nodded towards the wine glass. "Taste it." The words were so familiar, they almost burned. This was harder than he'd thought it would be.

Pen shook her head slightly but raised the glass to her lips, looking up at him through her eyelashes with her eyebrow still cocked. There was determination in her eyes; the same determination which had inhabited her gaze all those years ago when he'd done this same thing on their first date. With the same effect: him shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

The touch of a smirk which tugged at Pen's lips as she set the glass aside told him she knew what the look did to him. And not for the first time, he silently cursed her observational skills.

"Not bad," commented Pen as she placed his wine glass back in front of him. "I actually like that one. But tonight, I'm sticking to my lighter fluid, as you like to call it."

Phil felt his heart constrict, her words nearly a verbatim repeat from before. He really, really hoped he could make it through this night. "Are you sure? I can order you a glass."

"Maybe later," compromised Pen. Taking a sip of her own drink, she set it aside and flipped her menu back open. "Do you know what you want?"

"Possibly," replied Phil. "Have you decided?"

Pen shrugged a little. "Everything sounds decent. I was honestly thinking of just closing my eyes and pointing at something."

A touch of a smile tilted Phil's lips. "You do seem to enjoy doing that."

"My father and I used to do that a lot," explained Pen. "It was a tradition between the two of us."

Phil had to almost bite his lip to keep from commenting further. Pen had taught Darcy that trick when she was still very little. It had become a tradition for him and Darcy to pick things at random off the menu with their eyes closed after Pen had been taken from them. And their daughter had made it clear Molly would learn the same habit. "That's an interesting tradition."

"Very," confirmed Pen. "It doesn't always work out, but half the fun is trying to begin with."

"I can imagine," assured Phil as he pushed his menu aside.

Pen smiled and looked down at the menu open in front of her before closing her eyes.

_Phil hadn't been surprised the food was good. He was expecting as much, given Pen had chosen the place. Somehow, she always found the best restaurants._

_Reaching for his drink, Phil allowed his eyes to sweep across the room in the casual way they had been all night. He'd seen Pen doing it to, which put him somewhat at ease. Knowing she had his back, even right now when they were supposed to be relaxing, allowed him a degree of reassurance that he sorely needed._

_Pen's eyes met his as they swept back across the arch, his mind assured no one was hiding in the part of the room he could see. She offered him a smile, looking towards the dance floor as the band began to play the opening notes of a song. A smile slowly slid across her face, eyes lighting up with recognition._

"_I love this song," stated Pen, head starting to move slightly with the beat of the notes._

_Phil didn't even try to suppress his smirk as he stood, offering her his hand. He hadn't been planning on asking her to dance, but spontaneity could be a good thing sometimes. "Would you like to dance?"_

_The way Pen's whole face seemed to light up told Phil he'd made the right decision. Her hand slid easily into his, allowing him to pull her up from the chair. "Do you know how to dance to this music?" Her voice was hopeful, and he wasn't about to let her down._

_Instead of responding verbally, he pulled her close against his body then spun her out into one of the many swing stances he knew. Pen just grinned and laced her fingers with his, moving into the proper position and letting him guide her through the steps. He was surprised by how good she was, the smooth way her feet fell into the proper steps and her body shifted from step to step in perfect time with the beat. Unfortunately, he was distracted by his admiration._

_Phil felt Pen's body collide with his as his focus slipped, his arm having pulled her back in a little to hard from her spin. Her eyes were wide as they met his startled ones, surprised by the sudden stop to their dancing. Clearly, she'd been having fun. Energy sparked as their eyes met, hitting him like a blow to the stomach. And in that moment, he understood exactly what sexual tension Fury had been talking about. Dear god, did he understand. Before he knew what was happening exactly, his lips were on her's. And it wasn't a gentle kiss._

_They broke apart a few moments later. Well, Phil forced himself to break away from her lips. Otherwise, they'd both get kicked out of the club and never be allowed back. He was breathing a little heavier then usual. So was Pen for that matter. Her cheeks were faintly flushed and the eyes that met his own were hungry with a touch of glassy for added effect._

_For a second, silence hung between them. Pen opened her mouth, closed it along with her eyes, then reopened both as she started to talk. "I think we should get out of here."_

"_Agreed," murmured Phil, his eyes not leaving hers. They'd completely stopped moving. "My apartment has coffee, chess, and a rather good unopened bottle of whiskey."_

_A smile touched the corner of her mouth, but didn't detract from the way she was looking at him like she wanted to devour him whole. "An interesting proposal, but my apartment has one thing yours apparently doesn't: a functioning bed."_

_Phil allowed his lips to quirk up slightly with his own tiny smirk. "My apartment has one of those too."_

"_Not a charging station?" teased Pen a little breathlessly. _

"_Definitely not a charging station," murmured Phil. Seriously, was it just them or was it getting really warm in there?_

_Pen smirked and leaned close enough to whisper in his ear. "Then that sounds far more agreeable."_

"_Good," muttered Phil as he detached his body from her own, to his displeasure, and started to lead her back towards the front of the club. _

Phil smiled at Pen as he watched her finish her pasta. Somehow, even with her eyes closed, Pen had managed to order the same thing she had the first time they came here. It made his chest constrict a little as she shot him one of her soft smirks and took a sip of her drink. Before she could say anything though, the beginning notes of a very familiar song began to echo through the room. He watched Pen perk up almost immediately, face brightening as she recognized the notes.

"I love this song," she stated, eyes moving to the band. Her free hand began to tap out the rhythm on the table as her head moved slightly to the beat. An exact echo from before.

Smiling, and allowing himself a bit of pride at having thought to request the song when he supposedly got up to use the restroom, Phil stood and offered her his hand. "Would you like to dance?"

A bright grin spread across Pen's face as she took his hand and allowed him to pull her from her seat. "Depends. Do you know how to dance to this music?"

And as he had done before, Phil didn't give a verbal response, instead opting to pull Pen close before swinging her out into the proper position. And just like that, he was standing with her almost 27 years ago, dancing to the same song. It was ethereal in some ways, watching the woman in his arms follow his lead through the complex patterns of the dance. Spinning her in his arms, pulling her close and even swinging her around. Her grace stunned him, still strong in her steps even after all these years.

The sudden feel of her body colliding with his harder than it should have shook Phil from his thoughts. Standing there, on the dance floor, their eyes met: hers a mix of confusion, surprise, and a touch of something else; his like a man who had just been punched in the stomach. Because he felt as if he had been again. Electricity arced between them, throwing his mind into chaos even as his body took over. Before he knew exactly what was happening, his lips were pressed to hers in a kiss that was anything but gentle.

They pulled apart a moment later, both breathing heavily. Pen looked stunned, her expression lax and her eyes slightly glazed over. She was beautiful, just as she'd been that first night.

"I think we should get out of here," suggested Phil, using her exact words to him all those years ago.

"Agreed," murmured Pen. For a second, something shot across her eyes; something Phil didn't recognize. Then, she was blinking rapidly as if she had just awoken from a long sleep and shaking her head slightly. Her eyes darted up to meet his, confusion, recognition, love, and a medley of other emotions flickering across her iris'. "Phil?" Her eyes darted around, confusion furrowing her brow. "Why are we at Jitter's? And where's Darcy?"


	31. Prompt: Abrupt, Part II

**So, here's the second half to abrupt. It contains Pen's encounter with Clint along with a mild family story. Sorry if the family story seems out of place. I tried to flow into it, but it didn't work as well as I'd like and I didn't want to move it to another chapter because it links with the next chapter. So, it's in here and hopefully it's not too badly pieced together. Hopefully this is up to you guys' expectations.**

**Enjoy everyone,**

**Illusinia**

**Prompt:** Abrupt part II

**Pairing:** Darcy/Clint, Phil/OFC

* * *

><p>A tangle of limbs and sheets covered the king-sized bed in Phil's apartment, both occupants of the bed breathing a little hard and looking more than a touch dazed. Suffice to say, neither Phil nor Pen had expected things to be <em>quite<em> that intense when they'd come stumbling through the door. Then again, they hadn't been doing much thinking either. Once Phil had explained that Darcy was fine, probably at her own apartment with her husband-to-be and infant daughter, Pen had shifted her focus to catching up with Phil in a less...verbal way. Not that he was going to complain. As Darcy had said multiple times, he'd been living like a saint since Pen's accident.

"So is it safe to assume you missed me?" joked Pen, trying to lighten the mood even as she winced while sitting up. Phil felt a little bad about that. He could have been more careful.

She'd hit him if he apologized though, so he instead wrapped his arm around her waist and rolled her on top of him. "More than you know." He let the emotions he'd kept bottled up tightly since her accident, the sense of losing a part of himself, float across his skin.

Pen winced a little, cuddling closer and pressing her body to his. Instead of speaking though, she allowed her own emotional energy to float over his skin. Her actions in these cases were always stronger, allowing others to experience what she wanted them to feel.

For a few moments, they lay there in silence absorbing each other's presence and allowing it to revive their souls. Their bond which Pen swears she didn't create but which Phil knows she somehow did. A strange sense of always knowing where the other is and what the other is thinking.

Still, Pen had never been perfectly patient. If Phil was honest, he'll admit that one of the reasons he always liked Clint was the similarities between the archer and Pen. It made it easy for Phil to figure out what Clint was doing and put a stop to anything he felt the need to stop (most of it he let the man get away with).

Shifting around a bit, she raised her head to meet Phil's eyes. "So, who's this husband-to-be of our daughter's and have you threatened him with bodily harm and death should he fuck up?"

Sighing, Phil rolled them again so they were both laying on their sides with Pen pulled flush with his body. "His name is Clint Barton, he's been an agent with S.H.I.E.L.D for close to 12 years, and he's absolutely in love with our daughter. Also, he's one of my best agents."

"Does he know he's dating his handler's daughter?" questioned Pen with a touch of a smirk. It reminded Phil how devious she could be when she wanted to be.

"Yes, and he didn't run," confirmed Phil. "Though, admittedly, we didn't tell him until after Molly was born."

"Our granddaughter, right?" asked Pen, brow furrowed slightly.

"Correct." Reaching up, one of his hands shifted through Pen's hair softly. God, he'd missed being able to do this.

Pen looked thoughtful for a moment before a smirk curled up one corner of her lips. It was a devious look that Phil was all too familiar with. It meant someone was going to be broken very shortly, by the end of the day if not within the hour. "He's passed the first test then. Now he needs to pass the second."

Phil eyed Pen wearily. He wouldn't stop her, there was no way that could be fair to her, but he would rather not have to replace his best agent. "Second?"

"Yes," confirmed Pen, smirk now a full-fledged grin. "Me."

Clint sighed as he closed the door to the apartment he shared with Darcy and Molly. They'd moved in together after Darcy had informed him that she was pregnant. Despite any reservations about the matter on his part, he wasn't going to let Darcy live alone while pregnant with their child. It wasn't in his nature.

Dropping his keys in the bowl in the entry way, he moved into the living room of the apartment and froze.

There, in the middle of their couch, sat a woman who Clint didn't recognize at all. She was older, but probably not that old. Maybe in her late forties at most. Familiar dark hair hung down her back, drawn into some kind of a half ponytail to keep it out of her face an allow dark blue eyes to monitor his every movement. And she was watching like a hawk despite her very relaxed and unaware manner. It was a pose that he'd seen Natasha assume a hundred times when attempting to be non-threatening just before she dove for her target's jugular. Something about the woman struck a cord with Clint though, as if he knew her from somewhere.

"Clint Barton, I'll assume?" She may have asked a question, but her voice said she knew the answer already.

"Yes ma'am," assured Clint wearily. He and Darcy lived in Stark Tower, so he doubted the woman was going to do him any harm. JARVIS would stop anyone random from just wondering in, which meant she had to arrive with someone who had clearance to access the upper floors. "You are?"

Smirking slightly, she stood and moved towards the kitchen where he could hear coffee brewing. "Good. It wouldn't do for random men to be wondering into my daughter's apartment, but assumptions tend to make asses of people."

_Daughter's apartment? But that would mean..._ Clint felt his brain shut down. No. There was no way. Phil and Darcy had said she didn't remember anything. So what was Penelope Coulson, former S.H.I.E.L.D nightmare, wife of his handler, and mother of his fiancee, doing in their apartment?

"You really will catch flies if you leave your mother hanging open like that," commented Penelope as she emerged from the kitchen with two cups of coffee in hand. She held both out to Clint, allowing him to choose which one he wanted. He recognized it as the courtesy it was: an acknowledgment of the inborn paranoia that was shared by all agents who had ever spent time undercover.

Snapping his mouth shut, he chose the one furthest from him naturally and moved to sit on the couch. Pen took the chair facing him. For a moment, she watched him with a weary eye while sipping at her coffee. Clint did the same, though he knew that she was probably gaining more information about him from their exchange than he was. Darcy hadn't inherited her powers from her father after all.

After a few minutes had passed, Pen set her coffee aside and leaned forward to meet Clint's eyes dead on. Her impassive face and unwavering stare reminded him of attempting to stare down Phil. Ideally, he wondered if she was capable of staring down his handler. And if she ever had.

"Yes, I have stared down Phil," broke in Pen, drawing him out of his thoughts. For a moment, he was tempted to ask how she'd known what he was thinking, but remembered just as quickly Darcy's own knack for knowing what was going through other people's heads. "Several times actually, usually when he's being overprotective or stubborn about something stupid. Once or twice after he almost got himself killed in the field too. Do you know why I'd here, Clint?"

The sudden change of topic didn't make Clint's head spin only because he was used to Darcy's own tendency to rapidly move through conversation. "Uh, I'm guessing you're here to see Darcy, but she's out. Her and Phil took Molly to the park." Wearily, he glanced towards the door. "Do either of them know you're here?"

"Phil does," confirmed Pen mildly. "He's distracting Darcy to give us a chance to talk." Picking up her cup again, Pen took a sip without looking away from Clint. Damn, if she wouldn't make an excellent interrogator. Hell, she probably had been given how small S.H.I.E.L.D would have been when she started working there. "You see, Clint, I've been a bit...out of commission for a while. Which means, we haven't had a chance to _talk_ as I would have liked for us to. That means, we get to do our talking now."

Clint gulped a little. Somehow, the way she said 'talk' made the word sound ominous. Then again, Pen was a pretty dangerous person from what he'd read of her file. He considered responding for a moment, but decided to let her continue. The look she was giving him said she was using 'talking' as a way of saying that he was going to listen to what she had to say and not interrupt anyway. Also, it said he didn't have a choice.

"Now, I'm sure by now you know that Darcy is different," continued Pen. "Special." Clint nodded. "She's told you, I'm going to assume, about the way she sees the world and what that means." He offered another nod. "Good. That means you understand to an extent what she can do. But, you see, I have those same powers. Powers which can be used to cause a lot of harm. And I'm not afraid to use those powers to harm people who hurt my family, especially my daughter. Do you understand what I'm saying, Clint?"

Hurt Darcy and she'll crush him like a fly. Leave him twitching on the ground the way Loki was when Darcy lit him on fire. Scramble his brain so badly he'll never function again. Yeah, he got it. Nodding at her, he gulped slightly before offering verbal confirmation. "Yes, ma'am. Loud and clear."

The grin Pen gave him was borderline sadistic. "Good. Then we're on the same page." Craddling her coffee in her hands, she leaned back into the chair. "So, tell me a bit about how you and Darcy met."

Darcy felt her skin prickle as her, Phil, and Molly stepped off the elevator and onto the living floor of Avenger's Tower. Something felt off, like the echo of something she hadn't felt in a while. A presence she hadn't felt in a long time (hey, sometimes the villains had the best lines and Vader redeemed himself in the end, so it was all good). But it was familiar and comforting all the same. Two feelings which didn't mesh in her mind.

"JARVIS, is someone visiting the Tower today?" asked Darcy as she started down the hall quickly towards the apartment she shared with Clint. Molly didn't protest the increase in speed, just shifted in her sling to look up at Darcy with wide, curious eyes.

"Yes, Miss Lewis," confirmed JARVIS. "Agent Coulson escorted a woman up here earlier just before he left for the park with you and Miss Barton."

"A woman?" Darcy's brow furrowed in worry as she turned to face her father. "What woman? Dad, what's going on? You've been squirrelly all day, even for you."

Phil shifted a little and motioned down the hallway towards the apartment. "I think it would be easier to show you than explain this. You'll need to see this for yourself. But, perhaps I should take Molly?"

"What, am I at risk of fainting?" asked Darcy with a slight snort even as she handed her daughter over to Phil.

"Just to be safe," explained Phil.

Darcy gave him a weary look then nearly bolted for the apartment. Her father would have warned her if it was something dangerous, but the nagging sense that she knew this energy source made her move faster. Something about it was soothing to her, but her mind kept saying it could be dangerous for Clint.

Reaching the entrance, she unlocked and flung open the door before rushing into the living room. And freezing at the sight before her.

Clint was sitting on the couch, looking decidedly uneasy. He was leaning forwards casually, elbows balanced on his knees, but the way his knuckles were turning white belied his nerves. And right across from him, legs crossed as she leaned back in a chair sipping coffee, was her mother.

Both occupants looked up as Darcy burst into the room, one in relief and the other in joy. Her eyes darted between both individuals before her eyes focused completely on her mother. She swore the woman hadn't changed at all since the last time Darcy saw her.

"Darcy, you're home," greeted Clint as he stood quickly, moving to Darcy and drawing her into a hug.

She broke eye contact with her mother for a moment to hug Clint in return, offering him a quick kiss as well. "Hey Clint. Are you alright?"

Clint shifted a little but nodded none the less. "Fine. Just meeting your mom."

"Uhuh," replied Darcy, eyes shifting back to Pen, surprise still written across her features. She wasn't even sure what to say. After all, what do you say to a woman you haven't seen in 14 years?

"Darcy," murmured Pen as she stood, eyes examining her daughter. "Look at you." A sad smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "Sorry. You're father warned me that you were an adult now, but..."

"You still weren't expecting it," finished Darcy. She could feel the confusion still rolling off her mother. Confusion about what had happened, what she had missed. Shock at seeing her daughter fully grown in front of her (at least, she was assuming that's why Pen was shocked).

"Exactly," confirmed Pen. Her eyes passed over Darcy one more time before sliding to the door were Phil stood holding Molly. The little girl blinked at Pen for a moment before reaching out a hand towards the other woman. Pen didn't hesitate as she approached Phil and Molly, giving the little girl her hand. "And you must be Molly."

Molly blinked up at Pen, fingers pressing to her grandmother's palm. Darcy could see the energy shift that was occurring and knew Molly was trying to identify this new woman.

Without thought, Darcy spoke up. "That's your grandmother, Molly." Though the concept of a grandmother wouldn't be clear to the little infant, Darcy knew her daughter would be able to at least associate the word with the person in front of her, which was all that mattered. Trying to teach her daughter simple associations was something Darcy was attempting to start on. It would make things easier later on.

Pen looked a little startled by the name, as if it was foreign to her. Glancing up at Phil, she let the matter sink in for a moment before shaking her head and straightening up. "God, I'm old."

"You aren't old Pen," assured Phil, one of his hands reaching out to wrap around her waist while the other continued to cradle Molly in her sling. "You're younger than I am."

"I guess," muttered Pen, but Darcy could see the beginning of tears in her mother's eyes. She could actively count the number of times she'd seen any emotion other than amusement, annoyance, anger, or worry on her mother's features. Tears had been a major rarity that Darcy had seen maybe twice in her life. And one of those times, she was pretty sure her dad had almost died.

"Clint, why don't you take Molly and go out into the kitchen to fix something to eat," suggested Darcy, eyes meeting Clint's and pleading with him to go along.

Apparently, he picked up on the reason for her request quickly though, because he was already reaching for Molly's carrier when he answered. "Anything specific you're feeling like?"

"Pasta," replied Darcy. "Maybe something with a light, fresh sauce?"

"Done," assured Clint as he kissed her cheek before collecting Molly from Phil and retreating from the room. The door clicked shut behind him.

Glancing at Pen, Darcy felt her heart sink at the almost lost look on her mother's face. Her eyes darted to Phil and she mouthed 'how long' at her father. His return of 'last night' brought all the pieces together. Her mother was going through shock.

For a moment, she silently spoke with her father through facial features and minor head motions. The result was an agreement to move her mother to the couch and make more coffee. Darcy went to complete the second task while Phil handled the first. She wasn't surprised when the sound of quiet sobbing started to cut through the room.

Clint looked up as Darcy entered the room 20 minutes later, looking more than a little worn. Not that he could blame her. "How's she doing?"

Darcy shrugged, shaking her head and dropping onto a stool in front of Molly. "Hard to say. Dad said she broke down last night after a nightmare. It'll probably only get worse from here. I haven't looked up the symptoms of PTSD since I was 15 and suspected my dad was suffering from it, but I'm guessing she's going through something similar."

"It's going to be a shock," agreed Clint as he set a cup of coffee in front of Darcy and turned back to a pot on the stove. "She'll get better though. I've read your mom's file, she's a fighter."

"Even fighters can break, Clint," reminded Darcy, hand reaching for the mug and drawing it close to her body. He could see the worry in her shoulders and face; he doubted she'd ever seen her mother like this before.

Still, something inside urged him to reassure her. Yeah, this whole thing was going to be a shock, but when her mother threatened him, all he saw was strength and the urge to fight. Pen would be just fine. "She'll pull through this, Darcy. Believe me. But for right now, what she needs is you and Phil. Family can make all the difference in a bad situation."

"Tell me about it," sighed Darcy, setting her cup aside and offering her fingers to Molly who took one in her little hand. "Dad's with her now, talking." A faint smile pulled at the corner of her mouth. "It's nice to see him happy again. He hasn't been the same since mom's accident."

"He loves your mother," pointed out Clint, checking the pot before reducing the heat and turning to lean against the counter across from Darcy. One of his hands took her free one, his thumb creasing the back soothingly. "I'd be just as bad if something happened to you." Glancing at him, Darcy furrowed her brow in confusion. She looked ready to argue, prompting Clint to cut her off. "I mean that, Darce. If I were in your Dad's shoes with you, well, I'd be in one hell of a bad place."

"Clint..." His name came out as a concerned whisper, her hand turning over to grip his firmly. "I promise Clint, I won't leave without a fight."

Clint smirked a little, leaning across the counter to kiss her softly. "Good."

The sound of a throat clearing softly from the doorway brought them both back to reality and the fact that they were sitting in the very public Avenger's kitchen. Lucky for them, it was only Phil standing in the doorway.

Glancing at her father, then Clint, Darcy released her husband-to-be's hand and slid off the stool to approach her father. "Dad, how's mom?" Somehow she kept her voice neutral, calm. Clint could hear the worry though, and he knew Phil could too.

Phil shrugged slightly. "She's alright. Exhausted more than anything at this point." Pausing, he shot Darcy an apologetic glance before rocking slightly back on his heels. "I think we're just going to head home, though. You're both welcome to come along, of course, but she needs to be somewhere less..."

"Plagued by nosy scientists and a multitude of testosterone that someone could drown in?" suggested Darcy with a faint smirk. "A place _not_ filled with people who will ask too many questions if they find out she's here?"

"Something like that," confirmed Coulson a bit sheepishly.

Shaking her head, Darcy leaned up to kiss her father on the cheek. "Just take her home, Dad. Mom's still in shock. If I'd known she'd only gotten her memory back last night, I wouldn't have barged into the apartment like I did earlier." Coulson gave her an unhappy look, but his daughter waved it off easily. "Seriously dad. I'll have more time to talk to mom when she's feeling less discombobulated. Who knows, maybe I can finally get her to tell me about Moscow."

"Alright," agreed Phil with a sigh, leaning over to kiss Darcy's forehead. "I'll call you later and let you know how she's doing. And Moscow is confidential, you know that."

"So if I call Nick and ask him for the report, he'll tell me it's still classified nearly 30 years later?" challenged Darcy with a smirk. "I call bull."

Clint took that as his cue to be able to hop into the conversation, as well as direct Darcy away from anything with the term 'confidential' attached. If Director Fury gave her the ability to dig through the confidential files, he was going to get an ear-full about some of the stunts he's pulled in the past year at minimum. "Have you alerted Director Fury yet to the change in Agent Coulson's condition?"

Phil nodded, turning to face Clint. "Yes. I alerted the Director early this morning. He has made a S.H.I.E.L.D psychologist available for her to discuss matters with."

Clint couldn't help but wince. He hated the shock doc's, mostly because they liked to prod at uncomfortable parts of his life. Still, he knew that sometimes they worked and Fury wouldn't make anyone he wouldn't use himself available for someone like Pen. "That's good to hear, sir."

"Didn't mom break a few of them before?" questioned Darcy curiously, head tilted slightly back in consideration.

Phil smirked slightly. "If by a few you mean every one of them she was assigned to, then yes. Fury went so far as to allow for her and I to attend sessions together for the sake of the doctor."

Clint whistled. "Wow, he never even went that far with Natasha and I."

"Neither of you ever necessitated a therapist to see a therapist," pointed out Phil, smirk slightly proud. "Pen is very good at causing psychological damage."

"Why did Fury think _you_ could keep her under warps?" questioned Darcy, eyebrow cocked. "No one can tell Mom what to do."

Phil shrugged, looking a little shifty. "A few of the times may have been punishment for actions that may or may not have directly impacted Pen's need to speak with a therapist."

"In other words, Moscow," surmised Darcy, apparently accurately based on the expression that crosses Phil's face. At Clint's raised eyebrow, she elaborated. "I'm almost positive that Moscow is my parents' Budapest."

"Not quite," corrected Phil, "but close. Regardless, I'm taking Pen home for the night. This whole thing is a bit overwhelming."

"Just a bit," snarked Darcy in return with a roll of her eyes. "And I _am_ going to find out what happened in Moscow one of these days."

"That's classified information," repeated Phil, S.H.I.E.L.D mask falling back into place as he turned towards the hallway.

"Sure it is," returned Darcy, though Clint could hear the teasing in her voice. "I'll find out one way or another, Dad. You'll see."

The smirk in Phil's voice was evident as he stepped out of the room. "Of course you will, Darcy. Of course you will."

Nearly a week passes before Darcy brings up her mother again, though Clint knows she's been visiting both parents every day. He can only imagine the degree of difficulty that comes with accepting a paradigm shift like the one Pen is suffering. Still, when Darcy walks into the gym on Monday without Molly in her arms, Clint knows her parents have to be around somewhere.

Phil had taken a brief sabbatical over the past week, though no one seemed to know why. A few of the older agents kept shushing up the the rumors that would crop up though, so Clint guessed they knew more than they were letting on. Then again, those same agents were also the ones who had been around for longer than anyone could remember, so there was a good chance these people were friends of Pen's. Or at least had been at one point in time.

"Hey Darce," greeted Clint as Darcy reached the edge of the mats. He'd been throwing punches at one of the many bags scattered around the room. Normally he'd be sparring with Natasha, but the Russian woman had disappeared somewhere.

Darcy smiled as she stepped onto the mats, leaning up to kiss him despite the sweat covering his body. "Hey Clint, what's up?"

Clint nudged the bag which was still swaying slightly beside him. "Workout. What about you?"

"Just got out of a meeting with Fury about my requalifying tests," replied Darcy with a sigh. "He wants me to retake all qualifying tests except the firearms one. He figures getting as out of shape as I did while pregnant won't actually _affect_ my shooting. Plus, as he put it, he tried to make mom requalify for everything and ended up getting an ear-full about the difference between pregnancy and debilitating diseases."

"Debilitating diseases?" asked Clint uncertainly, hand reaching for his towel where it was thrown over the back of a chair.

Darcy nodded. "You know, about how pregnancy is a temporary physical condition and not a completely debilitating disease that keeps a woman from doing anything etc, etc, etc. Mom was fine with the physical stuff- that she got. What she took offense to was the suggestion that she might have _forgotten_ any of her training. And she may have bullied Fury into personally retesting her."

Both of Clint's eyebrows shot up in surprise, even as he gave a low whistle. "That must have been one hell of a test."

"Rumor is she kicked his ass," confirmed Darcy with a smirk. "Problem is, the only people present were dad, mom, and Fury. And none of them will talk about it."

"I wouldn't either," pointed out Clint, wiping the sweat from his face with the towel. A glance at the clock told him it was almost noon. "Want to grab something for lunch?"

"Definitely," agreed Darcy. "Do you mind if Mom and Dad join us? They're upstairs now."

"Coulson brought your mom here?" asked Clint, a bit of a furrow forming on his brow. "Uh, is that a good idea?"

"Probably not," replied Darcy with a shrug, "but Mom was getting REALLY bored. And you don't want her to be bored."

Clint winced a little, imagining how Darcy got when she was bored. Yeah, definitely a bad thing. The remnants of one of Darcy's 'projects' from her pregnancy had sat in the freezer for nearly a month before he'd just trashed them. The kitchen from that day had resembled an active bomb range. One that had been hit by a nuke. "I can imagine your mother bored would be a bad thing."

"Very bad," confirmed Darcy with a smirk, one hand reaching out to brush over his arm. "Now come on, let's get up there. I'm starving."

"Give me five minutes to grab a shower?" requested Clint with a smile, one hand sliding up her arm gently.

She hummed, her eyes going slightly out of focus. "Mmmm, only if I can watch."

"Only if you strip too," agreed Clint as he started backing towards the Men's locker room. "No fair in making this a one-sided thing."

Darcy grinned and started towards the men's locker room while giving Clint a look that made him want to pin her against the closest flat surface. "Deal."

When Clint stepped into the breakroom on the twelfth floor of S.H.I.E.L.D. HQ, he wasn't sure what he was expecting. It definitely wasn't this though. Clearly Darcy hadn't been expecting this either, if the furrowed brow she was sporting was any indication.

Steve, Natasha, and Thor were all cooing over Molly where she lay happily in Pen's arms. Phil was sitting beside his wife, smiling softly at his granddaughter. This wasn't the surprising part though. Hell, Clint would be more surprised if his teammates _weren't_ cooing at Molly. Even Natasha couldn't help cracking a smile when she saw his infant daughter.

No, what shocked him were the two other high-ranking S.H.I.E.L.D agents in the room who were laughing with Pen and Phil. Sitwell wasn't such a surprise; Clint had at least _heard_ rumors that the man had a sense of humor more morbid that Phil's. But Blake's presence was borderline shocking.

"Darcy, why are two of the scariest S.H.I.E.L.D agents next to Phil and Fury currently laughing with your Mom in the break room?" asked Clint uncertainly, brow slightly furrowed.

Darcy blinked for a moment before her eyes lit up. "I bet Dad told them Mom was back."

"Huh?" Clint could follow a lot, but he was more than little confused at this point.

"Mom and Dad were two of the first S.H.I.E.L.D agents," explained Darcy with a shake of her head. "Blake was with them in that group and Sitwell joined maybe two years after S.H.I.E.L.D began. They're the only agents I can think of other than Fury who are still around now."

"What about Hill?" asked Clint, brow still furrowed.

"Hill joined after Mom's accident," replied Darcy with a shrug. "She's a good agent, which is why she rose like she did through the ranks. Blake and Sitwell could have risen too, just like Dad, but none of them wanted to and Fury saw no problem with letting them train the younger generations of agents. Why move some of your best from their positions if they don't want to move?"

"Good logic," muttered Clint. "But I thought you weren't making any announcements about your mom yet."

Again, Darcy shrugged. "It's probably got to do with cheering Mom up. Besides, they were all close for years. If anyone would have a vested interest in seeing Mom again, it would be the two of them. Well, and Fury, but he's already seen her."

Clint watched silently as his wife-to-be moved into the room at that point, walking straight up to where Phil was sitting and dropping a kiss on her Dad's cheek. "Hey Dad, how's Molly doing?"

"She's an angel," replied Pen with a smile. "Better than you were at her age."

"I remember that," stated Sitwell with a slight hum. "Took hours to get her to quiet down when she got going."

"Must have gotten it from Dad," teased Darcy, her eyes dancing slightly as she looked over her shoulder at Sitwell. "And I'm sure Molly got her good behavior from her father."

The barely concealed throat clearing would have been insulting if Clint didn't know he deserved it. His reputation preceded him in that area. Well-behaved was definitely _not_ a trait listed in his file.

Natasha hadn't even bothered to hide her snort, just turned to Molly with a smile. "Don't worry little one, I'm sure there's more of your mother in you than your father."

"Hey," complained Clint petulantly, "I have _some_ good qualities that don't involve shooting."

"Yes, you do," agreed Darcy, her smile soft. One of her hands reached towards him, bidding him to come join them. He complied easily and slide his hand into hers. "So, ready for lunch?"

"Almost," replied Phil easily. "I thought I'd invite the others along, if you don't mind."

"Others as in..." pressed Darcy wearily. Pen was giving him the same look.

He just offered both women reassuring smiles. "Others as in Director Fury and the missing Avengers along with Dr. Foster. I thought it would be a good way to introduce you to everyone Pen, while offering the Director, Sitwell, and Blake a chance to see you again."

"If the memories I got from you are any indication, I'm pretty sure I should be angry with Fury at the moment," commented Pen with a touch of annoyance.

Steve furrowed his brow a little in confusion, but Darcy cut off his question. "Mom got her memory back because Dad's memories of their time together triggered hers and brought everything back. She also saw what happened while she was still knocked out from the explosion that caused all this. Namely, the argument between Fury and Dad over what to do with Mom."

Clint winced slightly, exchanging a look with Natasha but not commenting. This definitely wasn't something he wanted to get in the middle of. Not if he wanted to stay on Pen's good side. Phil shifted slightly and looked like he was going to say something too, until Tony waltzed in with Jane and Bruce in tow.

"So anyway, productive morning I'd say," declared Tony with a nod.

Jane didn't look so convinced. She looked more livid. "You blew up half the lab. How is that productive?"

"Because we learned what _not_ to do," replied Tony easily, eyes scanning the room as he took in the odd gathering before landing on Pen. He ignored Jane's grumbling in favor of approaching the table with a worrying smirk. "Well, it seems S.H.I.E.L.D has a new guest present. Allow me to introduce myself: Tony Stark, billionaire-genius-philanthropist-superhero. And you would be?"

Pen snorted slightly, clearly trying to restrain her laughter. "Penelope Lewis-Coulson, wife of Phil Coulson, former S.H.I.E.L.D field agent, and probably the last person in this room that you want to piss off. Well, short of my daughter. She might be more dangerous to you."

Darcy's shoulders shook slightly as she restrained her laughter. Clint had to admit, Tony looked like someone had just randomly walked up and slapped him with a fish before declaring themselves the king of Narnia and riding away on a unicorn. He'd never seen the man actually looked shocked; surprised awe was the closest the man could get.

"That explains the baby," commented Tony mildly, curiosity clearly piqued. Without comment, he spun a chair around and dropped into it backwards, arms folded across the back. His eyes narrowed slightly as he took Pen in. In response, she barely blinked.

Phil leaned back slightly, catching the eyes of the other two agents in the room. Clint noted the smile they all shared before refocusing on Tony. He wasn't sure he wanted to know what that was about.

After a moment of examination, Tony nodded his head as if he'd determined something and dropped his chin onto his hands. "I can see it. So, you're Phil's wife, hm?"

"To my knowledge I still am," confirmed Pen with a nod. "I'm hoping we don't have to go through that again."

"You're still my wife," assured Phil. "I made sure of that."

Tony hummed slightly, eying Phil and Pen with a smirk. "Sounds like a story, probably dealing with either an insane wedding or an insane proposal. My money's on the former, though I could see Agent hanging out of a helicopter with a ring in hand. Oh, that reminds me: I need ideas for how to propose. Pep's picky sometimes and I don't feel like completely screwing up like I did with the apology strawberries. If she quits again, I might actually be in trouble. So, Agent, since you _are_ the only married man in the room, how did you propose?"

In response, Phil and Pen broke down into laughter with Sitwell and Blake attempting to contain theirs to some extent. Darcy was covering her mouth and apparently trying to avoid breaking into the same laughter as her parents. Tony looked absolutely confused and more than a little scared (as was everyone by now because, really Phil should NOT laugh that hard), but before he could say anything to that effect, Fury cut into the conversation.

"Phil didn't propose," informed Fury from his post in the doorway. There was a single file in his hand which he dropped in front of Pen on his way to the coffee maker. "They forgot to actually _get_ married until after Darcy was born."

Jane's jaw dropped in shocked. "They forgot?"

"How do you forget to get hitched?" asked Steve as he scratched his head in confusion. "Isn't that kinda what you do _before_ you have a kid?"

"I'm more curious how they realized they'd forgotten," snorted Clint, one eyebrow rising in curiosity. "That's not exactly an every day conversation.

Coulson smirked, his laughter now under control. "We were talking in the break room one day..."

_Phil smiled at Darcy, rocking her a little in his arms while Pen ate. They'd brought her into work because Pen was still on desk duty, they had their own office, and neither parent really wanted to be separated from their daughter at the moment. The break room had seemed like a good place to set up for lunch, in part because a number of the older agents who knew them had been asking if they were going to bring their daughter by anytime soon._

"_Do you ever feel like we forgot to do something?" asked Pen as she crumpled the wrapper from her sandwich and reached for Darcy._

_Phil handed their daughter over so Pen could hold the infant for a bit. They knew each other well enough that Pen didn't have to say what she was referring to for Phil to know she was talking about their relationship. "Yes, but I can't put my finger on it."_

"_We're living together," started Pen, listing off what they had done._

"_We have a daughter," continued Phil, a hand reaching out to touch Darcy's own._

_Pen nodded. "We have a house, intertwined lives, and stable jobs. What did we forget?"_

"_Forget in relation to what?" asked Fury as he walked into the break room and grabbed an apple._

"_Our relationship," replied Phil and Pen, both agents looking up at the same time._

_Fury shook his head. "Marriage. You fucking forgot to get married."_

_Pen and Phil blinked at him for a moment, then turned to look at each other and spoke at the same time. "Oh." _

"_He's right," confirmed Pen. "We did forget to get married."_

"_We should correct that," agreed Phil with a nod of his head. "Courthouse after work?"_

_Pen nodded. "Might as well. Nick, can you come act as our witness?"_

_Fury shrugged and nodded. "Sure. Not the weirdest thing I've been asked this week."_

"_Thanks," grinned Pen in response before she handed Darcy back to Phil and stood. "I'll call the courthouse and see if we can just swing by."_

"_Might as well go soon," suggested Fury as he headed out the door. "Just let me know when."_

Everyone except Sitwell, Blake, Darcy, and Fury stared at Phil like he'd grown another head. Then looked to Pen. Then back to Phil. A few mouths opened like they wanted to say something but closed again before any sound could escape. Even Clint was blinking at his two in-laws like they were insane. And he'd been expecting something strange like an off-handed proposal while jumping out of a burning helicopter.

"That's just...I'm not sure there's a way to respond to that," commented Jane at last, her shock clear.

Steve shook his head. "No disrespect intended, but I woulda thought marriage would kinda be the first thing done after finding out your girl is pregnant."

Pen just shrugged, standing and grabbing her jacket in the process. "My father was dead by then, I wasn't speaking to my mother, and when we found out, well, we were more worried about our jobs than something like marriage."

"Forgot to get married," muttered Bruce with a touch of a smile. "I don't suppose anything can be normal when your involved with S.H.I.E.L.D though."

Clint shrugged. "I like to think my proposal was pretty generic."

Darcy shot Clint a raised eyebrow. "You proposed by hanging a sign that asked 'Will you marry me?' over the entrance hall to our apartment the day we brought Molly home. I'm pretty sure generic has to involve kneeling and some place nice."

"You didn't like the way I proposed?" asked Clint, brow furrowed.

"I never said that," replied Darcy. "I just said it doesn't qualify as generic. It wasn't exciting, but my parents didn't exactly have an engagement."

"Which your grandmother did not approve of, for the record," added Pen, leveling at look at Darcy. "She said you'd better have one."

"Do I want to know what grandma threatened to do if I didn't?" asked Darcy uneasily.

Pen shook her head. "No, you don't. Now, are we going to eat or not?"


	32. Prompt: Unexpected

**So, this is the last chapter where we're going to meet any other OC's. Promise. I just couldn't resist bringing Phil's parents into this. For some reason, I can't image him coming from a normal family; he handles chaos too well. Anyway, I'm going to try not to bring in anymore OC's after this unless I get requests otherwise.**

**Anyway, enjoy everyone.**

**- Illusinia**

**Prompt: **unexpected

**pairing: **Clint/Darcy, Phil/OFC, OMC/OFC

* * *

><p>Clint let out an 'omph!' as he landed on his back, lungs constricting for a moment as the air was knocked from his body. Coughing as he regained his breath, he looked up at Natasha with a faint glare. "Cheater."<p>

Natasha just smirked, shaking her head. "One can't cheat when there are no rules."

Groaning (because he knows she's right), he looked towards the back wall where the only clock hung in the S.H.I.E.L.D gym. They had lunch plans at noon and needed to watch the time. Otherwise Darcy would kill him. "It's almost 11:00, right?"

"Yes," confirmed Natasha as she moved towards the edge of the mat. "If we're meeting Darcy for lunch, we need to clean up."

Clint nodded as he rolled to his feet, rolling his head between his shoulders. "The others are still coming, right? The whole point of this was to give us all a break."

"The last I heard, yes." Snagging her towel from a chair at the mat's edge, Natasha slid it around her neck and began rubbing her hair. "Unless you know something I don't."

Clint shook his head, stretching out his muscles in an attempt to stave off the soreness which he knew would settle in otherwise. "Nope, that's what I heard too."

Nodding, Natasha headed towards the woman's locker room. "We're meeting the others in the lobby, correct?"

"Yep," confirmed Clint, snagging his own towel and drying his hair. "15 minutes Natasha!"

The Russian assassin just flipped him off as she disappeared behind the locker room door.

Laughing, Tony slapped Bruce on the back and shook his head. "C'mon Bruce, you can't tell me you don't want to do _some_ kind of genetic research on Darcy, her mom, and Molly."

"I'd really rather not," insisted Bruce, eying Clint wearily.

Clint just ignored Tony and his idiotic ideas. Phil would kill the genius before he'd allow anyone to mess with his family. His boss' protective streak is nearly boundless when it comes to the women close to him. Even a suggestion of treating any of the three women as test subjects would lead Phil down a violent path. Assuming the women in question didn't take care of the matter themselves first.

"What is this 'genetic research' you speak of, shield brother Banner?" questioned Thor curiously.

Jane, who's walking beside Thor with an article in hand, reached out to pat his arm distractedly. Her eyes never left the data pad in her hand. "It's a study of the DNA that makes us who we are."

"DNA? What is this DNA?" pressed Thor curiously, head turning towards Loki who was walking on his other side.

The younger of the two brothers sighed in a put-upon way and, not for the first time, Clint wondered why it is that Jane isn't attracted to the more intelligent Loki. It would make more sense in so many ways. Then again, Clint isn't really in a position to wonder what one person sees in another. He still can't understand what Darcy sees in him.

"DNA is a strand of material that determines how human's form physically, mentally, and emotionally Thor," explained Loki, tone bored. A faint smirk tugged at the edge of the trickster's lips, and he shot a conspiring look at Tony before continuing. "Think of it as a magic scroll of sorts. When two individuals lay together, they write this scroll which in turn becomes a living being after a period of time. And, depending on how they write the scroll, it determines who the individual becomes."

Clint covered his face, just managing to keep from laughing. Leave it to Loki to create an analogy about DNA that contained innuendo. Well, actually, he would expect Tony to do that. Loki's twist is the bit where he implies that position has some factor in what kind of child will be produced. Glancing up, he notes that Tony's trying not to laugh too. Which is hard because, seriously, Thor looks like a lost puppy, head tilted to the side in confusion.

"How do you mean brother?" asked Thor, heavy furrow to his brow.

Focusing ahead as Loki delved into a conversation which compared sexual positions to different types of writing (and ignoring Thor's questions concerning if the type of ink and paper make a difference because he does NOT want to know what Loki is going to delve into on that front), Clint spots Darcy where she's standing in front of the designated restaurant. He starts to raise his hand to wave, but pauses when he notices the two older individuals standing with his bride-to-be. She seemed to be friendly with both, laughing at something the man said while the woman made faces at Molly. He's too far away to hear what they're saying, but there's something very familiar about the older couple.

"Hey Darce! What's with the Q and A on the street? Holding a press conference without me?" Tony's shout carried easily down the street, causing the three people standing halfway down it to turn towards him.

The next few seconds are the most terrifying thing that Clint's ever witnessed.

Clearly spooked, the man suddenly grabs Darcy's arm and shoves her into the car they're standing besides with Molly in her arms while the woman, who has already run around the side of the car, slids into the passenger seat. Feeling his heart nearly stop, Clint breaks into a hard run towards the car just as it guns it's way into traffic. Then promptly transforms into some kind of jet and disappears.

Clint's only relief is in the knowledge that he saw the license plate of the car-plane-thing before it disappeared. Prd2BMad.

Tony flew (metaphorically) into Stark Tower, calling out orders to JARVIS as he shot through the living room. "JARVIS, I need to hack into the DMV's central database. Not like that really counts as hacking or anything, but I need access."

"Certainly sir," replied JARVIS calmly. "Would you like me to create a connection to your usual back doors for you?"

"You know it," confirmed Tony as he sped towards the first computer he can reach.

Clint rushed inside not a moment later, followed by the remaining Avengers. He's on the phone in less than a minute, dialing Phil's number yet again. They had contemplated calling Phil from the site of the abduction, but it seemed better to start attempting to track down the kidnappers as soon as possible. Unfortunately, Phil hadn't picked up the phone any of the dozens of times since Clint made the first call.

He listened to the phone ring continuously for close to three minutes before it cut to voice mail yet again, then made sure to disconnect the call before he began cursing. That isn't something his boss should probably hear. Tony's sudden shout interrupts the blue streak he was cursing.

"Got it!"

The mad genius' call sent everyone running into the kitchen, crowding around the counsel there like a mob of information hungry animals. They made sure Clint could get through, though. No one would even entertain the idea of standing in his way at the moment, and he knows it.

"What've you got?" His voice was tighter than he'd like, but he can't help the hope that worms into his mind. Maybe they can find her fast and save them both.

"The vehicle is registered to a David and Martha Coul," explained Tony, fingers flying over the display, "also known as The Mechanic and Dr. Hemlock." An image of a older couple appears, both gray haired and light eyed. That same image appears in contrast with a second one of a significantly younger pair dressed in what could only be called classic mad scientist garb. "It says here that The Mechanic was primarily a weapons developer who sold to other villains and countries looking to purchase some heavy-duty firepower while Dr. Hemlock was responsible for creating a slew of weapons, enhancement drugs, and surgeries which resulted in some of the more grotesque damage we've seen done. S.H.I.E.L.D says they're retired."

Clint scowled, a growl escaping his throat. "Retired or not, they took Darcy and Molly. And I'm going to get them both back."

"What do we know about their hideout?" Natasha asked calmly, the voice of reason in the clamor that's currently the rest of the Avengers. Clint watches as she steadily pilots the shuttle, her hands a mirror of his own. "We can't just rush in there without some kind of plan."

"Natasha's right," agreed Steve. His voice is the same as Natasha's, but with a twist. Clint can hear worry lacing his words. "Tony, were you able to get a blueprint of the property?"

"Easily," confirmed Tony. Clint can hear the genius activate the onboard holographic display. But there's an underlying tone to Tony's voice that worries him.

Clint and Steve voice the same question simultaneously. "How easy?"

"Too easy," replied Tony. His grim tone echoes louder than before. "Part of the public record, too easy."

Natasha shot Clint a worried look. They've definitely seen missions like this before and learned one thing the hard way: if it seems too easy, it's probably a trap. "How much information do you think was left out?"

"A lot," growled Clint, eyes focusing on the sky in front of them.

"What kind of security system do you think is in place?" Steve's voice cut through the spies' discussion easily, drawing both their focus to the planning stage of things.

Tony shrugged slightly, pacing around the holographic display of their destination. "Probably something robotic. I think I've heard of The Mechanic before..."

"Probably," interjected Natasha. "He was a big-time weapons merchant on the black market up until 16 years ago, when he and his wife were arrested by Agent Coulson."

The color drained from Clint's face, his mind making a connection it hadn't before. "Nat, you don't think they took Darcy because she's Phil's kid, do you?"

The grim look on Natasha's face said it all.

"I'm not seeing any defenses," reported Clint from his perch in one of the many trees at the bottom of the mountain-like hill that houses the Coul's castle. Literal castle. It almost goes beyond cliché. Lowering his binoculars, he added: "They could be hidden though. Lots of blind curves on that path."

"So we proceed with caution," advised Steve from his place at the base of the tree. Clint can practically hear the man's brain working. "If we creep up the path, we should be able to avoid triggering any traps."

"Or, you know, we can just go bursting in," pointed out Tony, always one for a show. "I mean, come on, these people are, what, 80 something? How much of a fight can they put up?"

"They won't _have_ to be able to put up a fight if they have a bunch of robots that can just vaporize their intruders," rebuked Clint.

"Plus, we don't want them to harm either Darcy or Molly, which they may if they hear us coming," added Natasha. "The Captain's way sounds best."

The words barely left Natasha's mouth when one of the rooms in the castle above suddenly filled with light. The sort of light which only comes from a laser. No corresponding sound followed, but Clint's already out of the tree and running towards the castle doors. He won't leave his lover and daughter in a house with a pair of mad scientists and a laser. He knows how that scenario ends.

Steve called for him to come back and might curse, but everyone's moving forward at that point. Tony shot past Clint, already taking to the sky to scan for threats. Natasha's next to Clint in seconds, her face as grimly determined as his own. He can hear the others scrambling over the rocky terrain, though there are no shouts of rage from the Hulk. They had discussed that coming in though: the Hulk needed to be contained unless absolutely necessary or until they had retrieved Darcy and Molly. Then it could become a free-for-all.

"I'm not seeing anything up here, Captain," reported Tony uneasily. "Are we sure this is the right place?"

"You're the one who looked up the address, Stark," growled Steve over the coms.

"I don't like this," commented Natasha to Clint, her breathing harsh. "Why aren't there any defenses?"

"Don't know," panted Clint, his own breathing labored. "Don't care. Doesn't matter."

He's pretty sure Natasha gave him the 'you are an idiot' look, but he's not stopping to check either. The front doors are in view, just over the edge of the next ridge. In seconds, he's over the ridge and standing in front of a set of large wooden doors that look like something of Dracula's castle. Seriously, these people are way too into the stereotypical mad scientist crap.

The others scramble over the ridge behind him, Steve sizing up the doors. Tony whistled and muttered something about having JARVIS order him a set like that. Clint didn't respond, just pushed against the doors which opened without any resistance. _Well, that's not right._

He's inside before anyone else can say a word, bow drawn and feet moving rapidly but silently across the floor. Inside, the faint sound of laughter echoed around the large, immaculate entry way. One of those laughs sounds like Darcy. No screaming or cries of pain could be heard, either. Furrowing his brow, Clint did the one thing he isn't supposed to ever do: gave away his position. "Darcy?"

"Clint?" Darcy's voice called back to him from somewhere off to his right, drawing his attention and focus that way. She didn't sound scared or upset, merely curious.

Clint could see Steve shaking his head and waving his arms in a 'don't respond' motion, but he ignored the Captain. Something about this whole situation felt weird, like they were missing some major piece of the puzzle and had jumped to the wrong conclusion as a result. "It's me, Darce."

"We're in here," she called back. "Go down the hallway on the right side of the room and make a right into the first room you come across."

Natasha's brow furrowed as she glanced at Clint, wordlessly asking him what was going on. He responded with a shrug and headed towards the hallway Darcy indicated. Steve, Natasha, Bruce, Tony, and Thor crowd closely behind him.

Reaching the previously prescribed doorway, Clint paused for a moment and glanced back at the others, all of whom had their weapons at the ready. Nodding, he pushed rapidly into the room followed by the rest of the Avengers, all with weapons drawn. Weapons which clattered to the floor seconds later as the group stared in shock at the scene before them.

Darcy was in the room, as they expected, sitting at one end of an exceptionally long feast table, unbound and unharmed. The older man she'd been speaking with on the street sat next to her, apparently engaged in conversation with the lab assistant-turned-logistics head. The older woman was seated across from her with Molly in her arms, cooing over the infant. Loki, for reasons unknown, sat beside the woman playing with Molly's toes. Darcy and the older couple glanced up as the Avengers entered, Darcy cocking an eyebrow at the clearly battle-ready group.

"Hey guys, what's up?" asked Darcy curiously, one hand reaching for the cup of tea in front of her. "Want some tea?"

"Tea?" repeated Clint, voice managing to work even though it comes out with a touch of squeak. "You're...drinking tea?"

"Uh-huh," confirmed Darcy. "It's really good. Imported directly from England."

"Very good," echoed Loki, eyes still locked on Molly. "Best I've had, actually."

"The company that makes it is several hundred years old," explained the older woman, British accent afflicting her every word. "Very good brand."

"Uh, Darcy?" prompts Steve, brow furrowed below his cowl. "What's going-"

"Mum, Dad, are you home?" called out a _very_ familiar voice, drawing the attention of everyone in the room except for Loki.

"In here, Philip!" replied the older woman, her voice raising to be heard outside the room.

Footsteps echoed down the hall for a few seconds before Phil Coulson appeared in the doorway, eyes scanning the room wearily. Deciding everything was apparently as okay as it was gonna get, he casually entered the room, walking over to Darcy and dropping a kiss on her head. "Hello Darcy." Glancing up at the older couple, he nodded to them in turn. "Mum, Dad."

"Hello Philip, how lovely to see you," greeted the older woman with a smile. "Please, sit. All of you." She added the last bit with a pointed look at the Avengers.

Darcy didn't wait for anyone to start moving, just moved over one chair so her father could take her previous seat next to the older man. Clint sat uneasily next to her, subtly taking her hand under the table. She apparently sensed his unease (like always), because she leaned over and kissed his cheek to reassure him. Thor dropped into the chair next to Loki, giving his brother a confused look which the younger god chose to ignore. Steve wearily eyed the chair beside Thor before Natasha grabbed his hand and forced him into a chair one down from Clint's, taking the empty seat for herself. Tony exchanged a look with Banner, who shrugged and opted to sit next to Thor. Shrugging, the genius deactivated his armor into the briefcase he'd designed it to fit into and dropped into the chair beside Bruce.

"So, someone want to explain what the tea party is about?" asked Tony curiously, one eyebrow raised. "Also, who are you two?" His index finger moved back and forth between the two older individuals, his 'okay, I'm interested' look plastered across his face for the moment.

"My name is Martha Coul," replied the older woman with a smile. She looked more like a grandma than a mad scientist, dressed in a plain black shirt with her gray hair pulled back into a bun.

"And I'm David Coul," added the man. He looked a bit more mischievous than the woman, his eyes twinkling in a way that said he knows exactly what's going through your head. There was still nothing threatening about him though. "You're Tony Stark, if memory serves."

"The one and only," confirmed Tony with a grin. "Fan of my work?"

"Some of it," replied David. His eyes turned to Clint then, narrowing slightly. One of his hands gestured in the archer's direction. "And I'm going to guess that you're Clint."

"Yes, sir," confirmed Clint wearily.

David nodded, but it was Martha that spoke. "Don't look so nervous, dear. Darcy's told us so much about you that it's lovely to finally meet you in person. Well, you and Molly of course. So sorry we couldn't make it down when she was born, but we were too busy."

"Should I dare ask what you were busy with?" asked Phil, his own voice uneasy. A touch of an accent no one had ever heard him use, save maybe Darcy, started to leak back into his voice.

"Nothing dangerous, I assure you," replied Martha with a smile. "If you must know, that S.H.I.E.L.D organization of yours asked for our help in determining the origin of a few bioweapons. Your father and I were simply assisting them."

"Father?!" exclaimed Steve, eyes shooting towards the man who had at one point in time (and possibly still did) practically worship him.

Phil just raised an eyebrow in return. "Yes."

Thor's eyes narrowed slightly, moving between Phil, David, and Martha. "Son of Coul, your parents are bringers of evil?"

"We prefer the term 'villain' dear," corrected Martha gently, still smiling. "And we got out of that game years ago, after Phil was forced to arrest us in front of Darcy."

"We decided being able to see our granddaughter outside of prison was preferable to our careers," explained David. "Besides, we were more suppliers than 'take over the world' types anyway."

Tony grinned, his look a touch smug. "So Agent is literally the 'son of Coul'? Looks like the big guy was right all along."

"So it would seem," replied Phil, eyebrow still raised. "Is that a problem, Mr. Stark? Because I'm quite certain that Miss Potts will be more than happy to-"

"Wait, Pep knows?" exclaimed Tony, eyes going wide. "And she didn't tell me?!"

Martha's brow furrowed slightly, head tilting a touch to the side. "Potts, Potts...is that the pretty red-headed woman you invited to have tea with us once, Philip?"

"Yes, Mum," confirmed Phil. "She's Mr. Stark's assistant."

"Well what's a beautiful, smart young girl like her doing as an assistant?" questioned Martha. "She could be a CEO with that brain of hers."

"She was for a while," cut in Darcy. "But she left the position because she started dating Tony."

Martha's smile softened as she sighed slightly. "Ah, young love. Such a potent thing. I tried to bottle it once. Didn't work as I'd hoped though."

Darcy just grinned. "Love's a little hard to bottle, Grandma." One of her hands slipped into Clint's drawing his attention to their joined fingers.

Smirking slightly, he squeezed Darcy's hand in return and looked back at his fiencee's grandparents. "So, gotta ask Darce, does your mom-"

"Phil, Darcy, are you here?" Pen's voice broke into the room, drawing everyone's attention again.

"Never mind," muttered Clint as he leaned back in his chair.

"In here, dear," called back Martha once more, eyes drawing towards the room's entrance.

Pen steps inside a moment later, gaze taking in the gathered group. "Well, this looks like some party."

"Hello Pen," greeted Phil with a smile, standing to meet his wife. "You got my message?"

"You only left it three times," replied Pen with a grin. "And kidnapping? Really, Phil?"

Phil just shrugged. "It seemed like the best descriptor."

"Well please _never_ use that word again unless Darcy has _actually_ been kidnapped," scolded Pen. "I nearly had a panic attack before I saw your parent's names."

"Sorry, Pen," apologized Phil, drawing her into a hug. "I wasn't trying to scare you."

"Apology accepted," assured Pen before she pulled away from Phil. She rounded the table to offer Martha a hug and shake David's hand. "Martha, David, it's good to see you both again."

"It's good to see _you_ dear," replied Martha with a smile. "Phil just hasn't been the same since the accident. We thought we were going to loose him for a while after."

"Mother," groaned Phil, one hand rising to cover his eyes.

Pen's brow furrowed slightly, eyes turning on Phil worriedly. "I'm sorry about that, Martha, but I assure you the decision to leave wasn't mine."

"We know, Penelope," assured David. "Don't worry about it. We're both just glad you're back."

"Indeed," agreed Martha. "Philip is never as happy as when you're in his life. I knew the second I spoke to him after your memory returned that you were back. There's a tone."

"I'm sure," replied Pen, chuckling slightly at Phil's clear embarrassment. "But, I've got to ask, could someone please explain why I got a text from my husband saying our daughter and granddaughter had been kidnapped by their grandparents?"

"That would be our mistake, actually," admitted David a bit sheepishly. "We ran into Darcy on our way back from brunch and stopped to talk for a moment. Just to check in."

"But when Mr. Stark shouted to her, our former instincts towards kicked in and we may have misinterpreted the situation," continued Martha, though her tone was completely unapologetic. "As soon as Darcy explained they were her friends though, we immediately wanted to take her back."

"However, I didn't think that would do any good, 'cause Clint alone tends to over-react to some things, and he'd have a good reason to in this case," cut in Darcy, squeezing Clint's hand under the table. "So I told them to just bring Molly and I back here. I called Dad and explained what had happened, so he could take care of things from the S.H.I.E.L.D. end of it. But when he said the Avenger's hadn't checked in, I figured they were probably tracking us down. And probably knew where we were already. Loki confirmed that when he popped in." She nodded towards Loki, who finally looked up and acknowledged the others before refocusing on Molly. "So, Grandma and Grandpa just disabled the security system and left the door unlocked. We figured they'd get something wasn't 'right' with the situation, and actually exhibit more caution, which would hopefully mean less fighting."

"Of course, we were ready in case they got rowdy," added Martha with a touch of a smile. The smile made Clint shutter. It said she had not doubt they could have taken down the Avenger's had the need arisen.

Across the table, Tony looked more than a little uneasy. "That's...kinda scary. Okay, I'm seeing the similarity between Agent and the baddies now."

Phil offered Tony the same slight smile. "I had to learn from someone."

"You mean you weren't born like that?" joked Clint, attempting to ease the tension in the room a touch. The blank looks everyone shot at him said his point completely missed the mark. Natasha smacking him in the back of the head did the trick though.

Shaking his head, David took another sip of tea and elaborated. "Hardly. Phil always was our better behaved son. Though his interest in Captain America was worrying."

"Billy liked hero's too," pointed out Phil.

Martha made a strange sound, nodding slightly. "Yes, but Billy went on to be evil once he realized they were rather worthless as human beings."

"He also lives in a city protected by 'Captain Hammer'," reminded Phil. "Who isn't exactly a model hero."

"He's a jackass is what he is," grumbled Pen. "I would have turned evil too if I had to deal with people like that."

Phil shook his head slightly, giving his wife an adoring but exasperated look. "Pen, there are people who think you _are_ evil."

"Eh, only sometimes," dismissed Pen. "Besides, as far as villains go, I like Billy. He's respectful."

Clint glanced at Darcy with a furrowed brow, clearly confused. "Who's Billy?"

"Dad's cousin," replied Darcy with a shrug. "Grandma and Grandpa come from a long line of villains and mad scientists/inventors."

"It's a very proud heritage too," stated Martha with a smile. "So many new avenues of research to explore, so little time. Nothing is closed to the so-called mad, so there are so many directions we can choose to research in."

"I'm sorry, but how does someone like Agent Coulson come out of a family of villains?" asked Steve, clearly beyond confused. "I mean, it's great that he chose the side of good, don't get me wrong. But, just, how?"

Martha shrugged, sipping her tea. "Philip has always been a quick thinker, finding solutions to all sorts of problems with a frightening efficiency. He just never had that passion for evil though. Personally, I blame Stephen."

"And Stephen would be...?" questioned Bruce, apparently deciding to come in on the conversation.

Phil broke in before either of his parents could respond. "Stephen would be my brother."

"Younger, older, or twin?" asked Stark curiously. "Because I could really see the whole 'evil twin' thing working well with this family-"

"Stephen is Dad's older brother," replied Darcy, cutting Tony off easily. "He's not really considered part of the family anymore though."

"Not since the kidnapping fiasco he tried to pull," elaborated Pen with a shake of her head. "Idiot."

"Agreed," muttered Darcy. "What kind of idiot tries to kidnap their brother's wife?"

"Kidnap!" exclaimed Thor, eyes going wide. "The brother of the Son of Coul attempted to forcefully take you from your love?"

Phil's face darkened rapidly, one knuckle turning white. "He tried to kill her."

"He wasn't trying to kill me," assured Pen quickly, one of her hands reaching out to cover Phil's. "It was an accident."

"Pushing someone off the top of a building isn't an accident, Pen," objected Phil. "Especially not when someone does so while attempting to get back at someone else."

Pen sighed, but didn't argue. Instead, she squeezed Phil's hand gently and turned back to Tony. "Stephen tormented Phil when they were kids. He also went so far off the deep end that most of the family doesn't even acknowledge him."

"It's one thing to get mixed up with someone like Dr. Doom but it's an entirely different story when you work for a group like Hydra," growled David. "I didn't approve of their goals during World War II and I don't approve of them now."

"David, calm down," soothed Martha gently. "Remember what the doctor said about your blood pressure."

"Of course, dear," assured David sheepishly. "I didn't mean to get so upset."

Martha just offered him a smile and returned her focus to the group. "I'm sorry. These younger groups and some of the older ones have such irrational goals sometimes that we wonder what the world is coming to."

One of Steve's eyebrows rose, but he decided not to ask. There was a more pressing question on his mind. "If you don't mind me asking Mr. and Mrs. Coul, did you always support Agent Coulson?"

"Of course!" exclaimed Martha, shock in her voice. "Why wouldn't we? He's our son and, well we weren't ecstatic when he decided to join the army, we've always supported his decisions. David and I recognized that Philip is not like us a long time ago. We're just happy he's happy."

"Seriously?" challenged Tony. "You're seriously okay with the fact that your own son works for an agency that arrested you? Multiple times?"

"Why not?" replied David with a shrug. "Phil's always been his own person. Sure, we weren't thrilled when he started collecting Captain America posters or when he began trying to track down those trading cards of his, but it helped to shape him. He had a role model, someone to look up to. And if that was a hero, we weren't going to stop him."

Phil, who was almost as red as a tomato at this point, cleared his throat loudly. "Could we not discuss this?"

"Of course dear," assured Martha, apparently taking pity on her son. "We can discuss Darcy's up-coming wedding instead, particularly the guest list. We don't want any fighting at this little party." Turning her attention to Darcy, the elder woman pushed a button, causing a holographic display much like the ones in Stark Tower to appear. Words scrolled across the screen, clearly names, most of which were highlighted in one color or another. "Now, assuming all present will be attending, I'd recommend leaving anyone in red off the list. Yellow should be alright, but you must warn them that there will be S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel present _and_ obtain a signed message from S.H.I.E.L.D. assuring no guests will be arrested..."

Beside Darcy, Clint groaned quietly. "This is going to be a nightmare isn't it?"

"Don't worry," muttered Darcy. "I've already taken care of this. Just let her rambled for a bit, then we can leave."

"Promise?" whispered Clint, hope in his eyes.

"Promise," assured Darcy with a soft smile. "You've had enough insanity for today."

"Enough for today?" muttered Clint. "Darce, this is enough insanity to last me the rest of the year."


	33. Prompt: Rain

**Prompt:** rain

**Pairing:** Clint/Darcy

Not for the first time, Clint cursed the desert. Especially the weather. Yeah, he hated the hotter than Hades temperatures that normally plagued the dry landscape and under any other circumstances he would have gladly accepted the rain currently falling. Unfortunately, the sudden storm had decided to open up at the worst possible time: right in the middle of his make-up date with Darcy. A picnic makeup date.

This just wasn't his week.

Beside him, Darcy pulled her coat higher over her head, staring out at the rain with an unreadable expression. Her eyes scanned the surrounding area quickly for any signs of something. Possibly Thor if he had to guess.

Without much though, he reached for her hand and tugged her back towards the car they'd brought out, leaving the food where it was. Thankfully, they'd opted to take his truck rental rather than her Jeep. The lack of top would be a problem tonight. The rain pounded against the cab's roof as they took shelter inside, Darcy panting slightly from their brief run.

"Shit, I'm sorry about this Darcy," apologized Clint immediately, his blue eyes turning to her sadly. "I didn't even think to check if there was any chance of rain tonight."

"There wasn't," replied Darcy as she dropped her coat at her feet, eyes still scanning the area wearily. "I'm more worried about a flash flood with this kind of rainfall. The soil around here doesn't handle large amounts of water well."

Shit, he hadn't even considered that. Without much thought, he stuck his keys in the ignition and turned on the car. The industrial strength headlights, curtsey of S.H.I.E.L.D. standard vehicle requirements, lit up the area in front of the car like the sun. "Stay in the truck, I'm gonna grab out stuff."

"I'll help," offered Darcy, hand already heading for the door handle.

Clint lay a hand on her shoulder, drawing her attention back to him. "I don't want you to get wet, Darcy. At least, no more than you already are."

Laughing, she leaned over and kissed his cheek. "That's sweet, Clint. But a little water never hurt anyone. Now, lets grab our stuff and get to higher ground. Just in case."

She didn't wait for a response as she jumped from the cab of the vehicle and darted towards where their dinner was still sitting in the bag Clint had packed it in. He followed her quickly out of the car, grabbing the blanket as she grabbed for the bags. One of his arms wrapped around her as he shoved the soaked material under his free arm, leading her back to the truck at a run. He could just hear her laughter over the roar of the down-pour, the beautiful sound raising his spirits.

They were both soaked by the time they reached the car, both diving into the cab with their prizes. Darcy was still laughing as she set the food in the back, making Clint smile as he tossed the blanket back there as well. Hands free, he flipped on the heat while stripping off his jacket.

He ignored the way his shirt was soaked, turning to look at Darcy instead. "Is the heat up high enough?"

"More than," assured Darcy as she peeled her jacket off and tossed it in the back as well. Strands of brown hair were stuck to her face when she turned back toward him. The smile plastered to her face was radiant. "It's been too long since I did that."

"What, ran through the rain during a failed date?" asked Clint curiously, his hand reaching up to push a few strands of hair off her cheek.

Her smile softened as she reached out with one hand to slide her fingers through his hair. "More like ran through a rainstorm at all. And this date isn't a failure."

"We didn't get to finish our date yet again," pointed out Clint. "I'm pretty sure that counts as a failure."

"Who said the date was over?" whispered Darcy, her hand sliding down his neck softly. "Head back to the lab. I have an idea."

"Whatever the lady wants," replied Clint, throwing the car into gear. If she wanted to keep going, he sure as hell wasn't going to argue.

They pulled into the parking space in front of the lab half an hour later, rain still pouring down around them. Darcy has already started gathering stuff in the back seat before Clint can even turn off the car. He watches curiously as she grabs the bags of food and tosses his jacket at him.

"Not that I'd complain about seeing you half-naked, but I'm not sure how comfortable you'd be sitting in the middle of the lab that way," explained Darcy as she pulled on her own jacket and gathered the bags in her arms. "Ready to run?"

"As soon as you give me something to carry," insisted Clint, hands reaching out to take one of the two bags she'd grabbed.

"Whatever makes you feel better," shrugged Darcy before she pushed open the truck's door and jumped back into the downpour.

Clint followed her out a second later, locking the car as they both run towards the door to the lab. She's already got the door open when he gets there, holding the glass open for him to run in. Reaching her, he grabs the door and motions for her to enter first, much to her annoyance. She shoots him a look of 'I can do it too' before dodging inside, apparently deciding it's not worth getting soaked to have this conversation. Clint's hot on her heels.

Once inside, she heads into the middle of the lab and drops the food off before heading to a door just off the lab. She disappears inside for a moment and Clint can hear the wind howl as what he can only assume is a door is opened then shut again quickly. Darcy reappears a second later, more soaked than before. "Alright, it looks like Jane is either out in this taking readings or asleep. I'm hoping it's the later because the former probably isn't safe."

"Do you need to go check?" asked Clint, concern furrowing his brow. Of course, Foster has a detail that's supposed to follow he no matter where she goes, so he's not too worried. If she gets in trouble, they'll help her out.

Darcy pauses for a moment, eyes looking out the glass at the back of the lab before she shakes her head. "Nah, she's in her trailer. I can see the outline of the van from here."

Clint suspects that's a lie, given he can _barely_ make out their improvised storm-chaser van from where he's standing, but he's not gonna argue either. He's more interested in what Darcy's idea was. "So what's your plan?"

Grinning, Darcy walked to a closet in the kitchen and pulled out two towels and a large blanket. "Well, if we can't have a picnic in the desert, we might as well have one in the lab. I'd say my trailer/room thing, but there's no where near enough space." Coming back over, she handed him the two towels and unfolded the blanket on the lab floor. "What do you think?"

"I think that sounds like fun," admitted Clint with a grin as he ran the towel through his hair and shed his jacket. The cooler air of the lab hit him then, or rather hit his sopping wet shirt. Well, that wasn't going to be comfortable. "Hey, Darce? Will you be exceptionally uncomfortable if I get rid of this wet shirt?"

Darcy shook her head calmly, beginning to lay out their dinner again for attempt two. "You have to be kidding, right?"

Clint held up his hands quickly, offering her a sheepish smile. "Just making sure. Don't wanna send the girl running by stripping here."

Rolling her eyes, she returned his smile easily. "Trust me, I'm not gonna run. I might jump you, but I won't run."

Mentally, he weighed that idea for a moment before shrugging and peeling the wet fabric from his skin. "Eh, I can handle that."

"I'd hope so," muttered Darcy, smile still in place as she finished laying out the food and stood. "Alright, I'll be back in a minute. A dry shirt sounds like a good idea and I think I've got one tucked away somewhere."

"You could always go without," pointed out Clint, perverted smirk curling his lips. He was careful to keep his words light, of course. Scaring her away or getting slapped were both on his 'not today' to-do list. "I wouldn't mind."

Smirking, Darcy shrugged and just pulled the fabric over her head. "If you're sure you don't mind."

Mentally, he added a few for digits to his mental 'awesomeness level' counter. He knew if he'd been bluffing, she would have just called him on it. And in some ways he was. Seriously, what girl just kind of casually took off their soaking-wet shirt? Especially when the guy was obviously joking? Not that he was going to complain of course. Definitely no complaints on his end. "Nope, don't mind at all. It evens the playing field."

"Yep," agreed Darcy as she gathered up both shirts and hung them over the back of the dining chairs. Returning to the blanket, she grabbed a piece of fruit from one of the many containers. "You know, I think this is better anyway."

Both of Clint's eyebrows rose in surprise. "How do you figure?"

"Easy," replied Darcy with a smirk. "Everything's more fun, when you do it in the rain."


	34. Prompt: Warm

**So, for those of you who are waiting on me to finish and post other pieces, I promise they will be finished. I can't guarantee when because it's very hard to write something cheerful when you're morning the loss of a friend (may Loki and/or Hel entertain her soul during her stay in Death's lands), but I have several things in my editing folder including part of the rest of the More-Than-She-Seems series. There will be at least one more chapter story in that series and two single shots that go at the beginning and end. Those things will hopefully be finished soon, but in the mean time please enjoy something short as an apology for what will likely be a bit of a wait for anything further.**

**-Illusinia**

**Prompt: **Warm

**From: **avengers-tables .livejournal **under 50-word prompt (yes, I do intent to use all 50 words)**

**Pairings: **Clint/Darcy

* * *

><p>Darcy shivered slightly in the chill of the desert night, the faint breeze crossing her naked skin. Clint had shown up at the lab hours earlier and managed to coerce her into heading into the desert with him for a picnic. She'd been completely surprised when said picnic had been set up near the top of a hill where they could watch the sun set and the moon rise.<p>

And once the sun had set, things had gotten a bit heated between the two of them. Which had ultimately led to their current position: naked, sweaty, and curled against each other in the back of the jeep staring up at the sky. Even so, it made Darcy smile.

Beside her, Clint shifted and drew her closer. "You're shivering."

"It's a little cold," admitted Darcy quietly, letting him pull her close. Normally, she hated this much physical contact with anyone. Clint though, he was completely different. The kind of different she suspected her mother had described when talking about her dad.

Without a word, Clint grabbed a blanket he'd dragged out with them and wrapped it around them. The result was her tucked even closer against the side of his body. Taking a deep breath, she pressed closer against his side and buried her face against his neck.

"Better?" asked Clint quietly, the rumble of his voice moving through her body.

"Much," murmured Darcy, curling closer to him. The warmth coming off his body soaked into her skin almost immediately, chasing away the chill. "Thank you."

"Any time," assured Clint, at touch of a smirk in his voice as his arms shifted to hold her closer. "I never mind sharing body heat with a beautiful woman."

It took a lot of effort on Darcy's part not to make a wise crack about Natasha. She wasn't supposed to know about Agent Romanov as far as Clint knew, and saying something would probably make him suspicious. Or freak him out. Probably both.

Instead, she opted to curl closer into his side so the entire length of her body was pressed against his. Resting her cheek against his chest, she threw one leg over his hips and sighed. "You know, I think this is the nicest date we've had yet."

"Really? 'Cause I thought our second date was pretty fantastic," remarked Clint. One of his hands slid up her back and began to play with her hair. "Sex in the rain is a lot more fun that I thought it would be."

"It's a lot more fun when the rain is warm," replied Darcy as she relaxed into his body. "Don't try it anywhere cold though; it sucks." Glancing up, she smiled a little at the raised eyebrow he was giving her. "What? My roommate tried it once. Almost got pneumonia."

"I'll remember that," muttered Clint, rolling so he was facing her completely rather than allowing her to use him as a pillow. "You know, next time we need to try sex in a bed. I know it sounds boring, but I swear it's worth it."

"Hmm," hummed Darcy a little, as if she needed to consider his suggestion. "But then we won't have to cuddle to stay warm."

Clint smiled, leaning his forehead against hers as the hand that had been toying with her hair rose to slide into the strands. "I promise, we can still cuddle afterward." Pulling her body flush against his, he kissed her slowly before adding: "I always enjoy keeping you warm."


	35. Prompt:Time

**Prompt: **Time

**From: **avengers-tables .livejournal **under 50-word prompt (yes, I do intent to use all 50 words)**

**Pairings: **Clint/Darcy

* * *

><p><em>I wish I had all the time in the world.<em>

Silently, Clint stares at the woman sprawled across his naked torso in sleep. Darcy's own bare skin slides slightly against his with each minor shift, reminding him constantly of her presence. Not that he could miss it with her curled as she is around him. It's a reminder to him though; a reminder that this is real, not a dream that will disappear as soon as he blinks.

_I want to just hold her. Stay here forever._

His arms are curled around her body, cradling her close in sleep. He knows he'll have to leave soon. It's unavoidable. He has to return to work and she has to return to college. To classes and a campus filled with guys her own age. To people who are more like _her_, not broken the way he is. Nothing has been able to fix him so far. Not even time has closed some of his worst injuries. Yet she holds him close, clings to him in sleep.

_What did I do to deserve something so wonderful?_

In her sleep, Darcy curls closer and whispers his name. It's little more than a puff of warm breath against his skin, cooling in the desert air that's leaking into his hotel room. But that one simple word makes him hold her closer. _What I wouldn't give for all the time in the world_.

For the first time in years, Clint doesn't want to let go. Doesn't want to go back to his job. Doesn't want to be separated from something as simple as a woman. It should scare him, terrify him even. It's been years since he felt like this, and that was back when he was still hopelessly in love with Tasha. Thank god he got over that before it killed him. And he's not foolish enough to believe that loving his exceptionally dangerous and very scary partner wouldn't have meant death for him.

Looking back at Darcy again, he felt his heart swell as he stared at her. How could she do this to him? How was it possible for a woman to enchant him the way she has? _Stop fighting it, Barton, and stop trying to analyze it. You love her, you know you do, get over it and figure out how to keep her. _Because keeping her is going to be the hard part. Keeping her knowing it might be almost a year before they're together again. Reminding her day after day that he's here and loves her. That he doesn't want to loose her. That's going to be the hard part.

"Clint, stop thinking and go to sleep." Darcy's voice is little more than a murmur, but as his eyes refocus and meet her own sleepy ones, he can't help but lean down to kiss her lips. Hug her a little closer as he tries to convey what he's feeling into that one moment.

When she pulls back a second later, she's giving him a confused look. "What was that for?"

"Being you," whispered Clint. "I was just thinking that we didn't have a lot more time together and, well, I didn't want to waste a chance."

Smiling, Darcy propped herself up on her elbow and leaned in to softly kiss Clint. She doesn't pull back far a moment later, just enough that she can speak. "No matter how much time has to pass, we will meet and be together again. I promise."


	36. Prompt: Breath

**Prompt: **Breath

**From: **avengers-tables .livejournal **under 50-word prompt (yes, I do intent to use all 50 words)**

**Pairings: **Clint/Darcy

* * *

><p>Clint shot up in bed sharply, his breath caught in his throat and her name on his lips. "Darcy..."<p>

Before his eyes, the nightmare flashed through his mind. Darcy, dead on the ground. Blood pooling around her. Enemies everywhere. His brother mocking him from the shadows, pointing out his flaws. Calling him a failure for not protecting Darcy. And Darcy, not moving, just gone...

Shaking his head firmly, Clint dislodged most of the nightmare from his mind. Beside him, Darcy rolled over and whimpered in her sleep but otherwise didn't move. Taking a deep breath, Clint released it slowly before taking another and another. When his heart no longer raced like a rabbit being chased by a hawk, he opted to risk laying down again.

Turning to face his lover, Clint silently wrapped an arm around her waist and tugged her carefully against his body. Just feeling her pressed close, hearing her soft breathing, helped ease his troubled mind. Pressing his nose into her hair, he took a deep and soothing breath, one of his hands sliding up her back to cup the back of her head. She's breathing next to him in his bed; she's alive. The soft sound soothes him. Reminds him that she's safe.

"Clint?" Darcy's sleepy voice drew him out of his thoughts. He hadn't noticed the change in her breath, the slight hitch that always came as she awoke. It was always this soft sound that he loved to listen to. It was one of his favorite parts of watching Darcy wake up.

He didn't move from his position though, just held her a little tighter. "Nightmare."

Her hands slid up his back, uncertain. "I'm sorry..."

"It's alright," murmured Clint, pulling back enough to meet her eyes. "I just- I needed to hold you. I'm sorry."

Nodding, Darcy slowly propped herself up on one elbow, sliding one hand into his hair and kissing him softly. "Whatever you need."

"You," murmured Clint, his hands rising to cup her face. "I need you."

"You have me," replied Darcy quietly, covering one of his hands with her free one. "You have me for as long as you want me."

Pulling her tighter against him, Clint kissed her firmly and pulled her down so she lay flush on top of him. "Always. I always want you."

"Good," murmured Darcy, her forehead resting against his and her soft breath puffing against is lips, "because I don't want to let you go, either."


	37. Prompt: Late Night

**Prompt: **Late Night

**From: **avengers-tables .livejournal **under 50-word prompt (yes, I do intent to use all 50 words)**

**Pairings: **Clint/Darcy

* * *

><p>[I'm bored, come save me.]<p>

Darcy almost broke into laughter at the context of the text. Of course Clint's bored; he's always bored when he's not shooting at things or preparing to shoot at things or training to shoot at things. It's just how he is. So it's no surprise he's texting her when he's hanging around not fifteen feet above her head on the roof, laying flat and possibly partially hanging upside down. How, she's not about to ask.

Late nights are no ones' idea of fun (except for Jane, who seems to run solely on caffeine and poptarts). Much less late nights that could be spent cuddling with sexy archers rather than staring at sheets of data.

A glance confirms that Jane was thoroughly engrossed in her science and won't notice Darcy's minor distraction.

[Can't Clint, I'm working.]

He responds less than half a minute later, meaning he's indeed very, very bored.

[So am I. Let's work together. Coulson's always encouraging us to practice team work, so let's practice.]

Of course, any mention of her dad is an immediate buzz kill, but that's the advantage of the internet. No one can see when a horrified shutter crawls down your spine at the mention of your father in a sentence meant to entice you to come have sex with your boyfriend.

[I don't think that's what he meant and please never mention Coulson and innuendo in the same sentence again. It's a cross between disturbing and horrifying.]

[Noted. So, what do ya' say, come up?]

[I can't just drop my work so we can have a booty call.]

[Who said anything about actually having sex? There's three other SHIELD agents around here who can see me from their positions. I'm adventurous but not _that_ adventurous.]

[You did.]

[I was kidding. If we're gonna have sex, it's not going to be on the roof.]

[We've already had sex on the roof. Twice.]

[So we're not gonna have sex on the roof again. Better?]

[A little. So what do you want then?]

[Company. A little conversation, someone to plot how to land spitballs perfectly on Agent Fin's jacket without him noticing, the usual.]

[You don't need me to figure out how to hit Fin with spitballs.]

[No, but it's more fun with you. Plus, your kitty cat face was a great idea.]

It was only through great resistance that she kept from giggling at the memory of that particular day. They'd been on the roof, bored, when Clint had started throwing spitballs at Agent Fin. After a few, Darcy had told him that she bet he couldn't make a kitty cat face. Clint had happily proved her wrong, to both their amusement. Fin had walked around most of the day with the spitballs on his back before anyone finally said something. With a faint smirk, she shot a text back.

[Smiley faces are always classic. Take a photo.]

His pout could be heard through the text.

[C'mon, please Darce!]

Huffing a soft sigh, she shook her head and typed back a quick response.

[When I get out of here: you, me, my bedroom. But for now you let me work, deal?]

[Fine. Finish fast. I'm holding you to that promise.]

[Oh yes, you're really gonna have to twist my arm on that one. Be safe.]

Shaking her head with a soft smile, Darcy tucked her phone back into her pocket. Maybe she could finish quickly and sneak up to hang with Clint. Or just drag him back to her trailer to hang out and watch bad horror movies. Those were always fun.

The stack of papers beside Darcy suddenly disappeared, replaced by Jane as she hopped up onto the edge of Darcy's desk and proceeded to stare a hole in the side of her head. Which just made Darcy all that much more uneasy. Shit, maybe Jane had caught her texting. This could be bad; focused Jane got pissy when everyone else wasn't equally focused.

"Was it him?" Jane's words weren't angry or tense, just curious. And a complete surprise.

For a moment, Darcy was floored. She didn't know what to say or how to respond, and it left her looking like a fish out of water. So she did what she always does and said the first thing to come to mind. God, it's a good thing she's not a spy. "Him who?"

"The him you've been sneaking out with for the last month," supplied Jane easily. "Don't think I haven't noticed you disappearing. So, is it him?"

Darcy winced a little. She thought they'd been pretty good about keeping the whole thing under the table, but apparently that wasn't the case. Lying crossed her mind, but was just as quickly dismissed. She sucked at lying despite her father's secret agent status. It just wasn't something she was good at, mostly because it always felt like the other person could see right through her. Which left the truth, though she wasn't gonna tell Jane it's Clint she's dating. That just didn't seem smart. "Yeah, it's him."

Nodding quietly, Jane looked drawn for a moment before gesturing towards the door. "If you have plans-"

"Don't think so, Janey," cut in Darcy, shaking her head firmly. What Jane's offering is nice and she wants to take it, but her conscious won't let her. Her dad had taught her to always be responsible with her work and that's damn well what she's gonna do. "I can see him when we're done for the night. No rush, I promise."

Jane's eyebrows furrowed skeptically. "Are you sure? You were texting him for ten minutes."

"Because he's bored and wants me to come entertain him as much as he wants to actually see me," explained Darcy, shaking her head and neatly pulling the papers she needed from Jane's grasp. "Now let's get this done, eh boss lady? It's already gonna be a late night, let's not make it later than necessary."

"Alright," agreed Jane, smirking a bit at Darcy. "But Darcy? If you need a night off, let me know."

"I will Jane," assured Darcy, smirking a bit herself. "You better be careful making offers like that though, someone might take you up on them and then who'd remember to feed and water you?"

Rolling her eyes, Jane hopped off her desk and headed back towards her station. "I am a grown woman, Darcy."

Chucking, Darcy turned back to her computer and flipped through the notes until she found where she'd been. "Yeah, and without me you'd waste away to nothing."

Jane didn't bother to respond verbally. Instead, the sound of clicking keys broken occasionally by a white board pen squeaking filled the lab instead. Darcy was just glad to be back to work; she really wanted to keep her promise to Clint tonight. Late nights were only fun when you had someone to curl up with after and sleep like the dead.


	38. Prompt: Early Morning

**I'm sorry for the strong amount of sap in this piece. This comes after the prompt 'Conversation', probably in the morning after. It turned out different from what I thought it would be. Again, my apologies.**

**-Illusinia**

**Prompt: **Early Morning

**From: **avengers-tables .livejournal **under 50-word prompt (yes, I do intent to use all 50 words)**

* * *

><strong>Pairings: <strong>Clint/Darcy

Sunlight was the first thing Clint noticed as he woke: it's warm and kind of painful light striking him in the face. Huh, well that was different. It was rare for Clint to sleep past five, his body usually dragging him up long before the sun rose. If he was seeing sunlight, it meant he'd slept way in.

Rubbing his eyes, Clint started to sit up only to freeze when he felt an arm splayed across his chest tighten in objection. He didn't have to look to know who his bed partner was- he remembered the previous night perfectly. A grin curled over his lips as he settled back again and turned his attention on the woman beside him.

Darcy's hair tumbled around her face, eyes squeezed shut against the morning light. Those soft, red lips of hers were slightly parted as she slept, leaving her face lax as she burrowed further into her pillow. Without thinking about it, Clint shifted to block the intrusive light. Almost immediately, Darcy relaxed a little more back into sleep, though she shifted closer to him almost automatically and pressed her face against his chest.

One of his hands crept out to stroke her hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands as he just watched her sleep against his chest. It was soothing, having Darcy so close. She was like a bright spot of light in his life; she was the sun and he would have been perfectly content to just orbit her endlessly. Sadly, their time was rapidly diminishing. But damn if he didn't want to stay with her, watching her sleep in the early morning light.

If he had it his way, he'd wake up next to her every morning to see her bathed in light.

Groaning, Darcy shifted in her sleep until she was smashed so close to Clint's body it was hard to tell where he ended and she began. Her leg went over his hip and her fingers curled under and around his torso, seeking as much contact as possible. "Stop thinking so loud, it's too early for that."

"Who said I was thinking?" teased Clint, one hand remaining in her hair while the other slid under her body. Darcy just groaned and popped open an eye to glare at him.

Laughing, he rolled them over so she was on top; she let out a little yelp as he shifted them around. When they settled again, they were face to face with Darcy's forehead resting against his. Their eyes met in familiar reassurance, a smile tugging at the corner of Clint's lips. A matching smile slid over Darcy's lips, her thumb sliding up to rub at Clint's stubbled chin.

Clint didn't think about it as he leaned up to kiss her, fingers sliding down her spine as he cradled her against his body. Having her so warm and pliable in his arms was something he would sorely miss when she was at school. Visits were definitely going to be a must. He could do without the sex (he didn't _want_ to, but it was possible), but giving up moments like this would be extremely hard.

When Darcy pulled back a moment later, she gave Clint a look that made him wonder if she could read his mind. It was soft, reassuring, and possibly, just maybe, loving. Then a soft grin broke across her face as she pushed to sit upright, straddling his hips and stretching her arms over her head. "Ugh, you get up way too early."

"Later than usual," dismissed Clint, his hands sliding down to her waist. With her now sitting up, the early morning light bathed her skin like a halo. It made her look like an angel. His angel. Yeah, he was definitely going to miss these moments.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer," teased Darcy with a yawn, one of her hands pushing her hair out of her face while her other hand reached for the glasses on his nightstand. Settling the frames on her face, she blinked down at Clint. "You're being cuddly."

"Is that bad?" asked Clint, unease sliding up his spine. Had he made her uncomfortable? They'd laid around like this at least a dozen mornings by now and she'd never seemed uncomfortable before.

"Nope," murmured Darcy, leaning forward and kissing him quickly. Her eyes met his when she leaned back a little, staring at him over the rims of her glasses. "Stop looking like the world is about to fall out from under you. We've got the rest of the week."

Clint nodded slowly, his hands reaching out to curl around her own. He interwove their fingers, bringing both her hands to his lips so he could press kisses to her knuckles. "It goes without saying I'm going to visit, right? As much as possible."

"I know," assured Darcy, leaning down to kiss him again. "I know you're gonna visit, and I'm already looking forward to it. But for now, can we just enjoy the morning and not worry about it?"

"Yeah," murmured Clint, forcing the thoughts out of his head as he pushed to sit up. She moved up with him, their chests ending up pressed together as he shifted so his legs were thrown over the edge of the bed. He kissed her again, taking a moment to memorize the feel of her body, lips, everything about her that was uniquely Darcy. When they broke away a moment later, he had to catch his breath. Still, he offered her a playful grin before standing up with her in his arms. "Shower then coffee?"

Laughing softly, Darcy wrapped her arms around his shoulders and snuggled close. "Sounds like a plan, Cupid."

Oh yeah, he was definitely going to miss these early mornings. This wouldn't be the last though, not by a long shot. He would make sure of that.


	39. Prompt: Avenger(s)

**Prompt: **Avenger(s)

**From: **avengers-tables .livejournal **under 50-word prompt (yes, I do intent to use all 50 words)**

**Pairings: **Clint/Darcy

* * *

><p>The first thing Darcy becomes completely aware of as she is pulled from her slumber is the source of her interrupted sleep: her ringing cellphone. Normally, Darcy wouldn't have woken from her slumber for a buzzing device, but it isn't her normal cellphone ring that cuts through the room. No, it's the special ring she set for Clint: the Carrie Underwood song about Cupid running around with a shot gun. The imagery is entertaining enough that Darcy was willing to set aside her issues with the genre to use it for her boyfriend's ring tone.<p>

It's also guaranteed to wake her up because, much like her father, the ring tone could be both good or bad. And given she's getting the call before the sun is up, there's a better chance it's bad than good. God, if he's in the hospital, she's going to kick his ass.

Snatching up the device, she fumbled a bit before managing to get the phone open. At least it's not the primary SHIELD line. She knows the hospital number by heart at this point; she's gotten so many calls about her dad from there over the years she can't even begin to count them all. "Clint?"

"Darcy," greets Clint, his voice brimming with excitement. Excitement, good. That probably doesn't mean broken bones. That's a good sign. But now she kind of wants to murder him for scaring her at...whatever the hell time it is. "Darce, I've got amazing news!"

"News that required you to wake me up?" grumbles Darcy, fumbling for her glasses as she sits up in bed. One of her hands disappears into her hair, scratching at her scalp as he speaks.

"Shit, sorry Darce," apologizes Clint, his voice going from excited to apologetic in a second without managing to lose the actual excited tone. "But I've got big news!"

Darcy could feel a smile tugging at the corner of her lips as his excitement leaked over the line. No matter how annoyed she is him, his excitement always makes her smile. Damn it, she sounds like a romantic sap. "Yeah? You reassigned to New Mexico again?"

"No, better!" exclaims Clint, his excitement bubbling over. "I'm on the roster!"

Roster? He didn't mean the Avengers roster, did he? She knew he had been on the short list for the team (not that he knows that she knows, but hey, she isn't going to tell him that), she just hadn't been sure he knew. The final roster is all theoretical to boot, so she isn't sure Fury is even talking to anyone other than her dad about it. "What roster?"

"It's a super covert team," explains Clint and damn he sounds excited. "I can't say much about it, but we'll be a high-powered team to tackle some of the biggest threats. Darce, I made it."

Oh, he is definitely talking about the Avengers roster. It's the only major covert ops roster out right now that he'd be excited about. She knows only because Fury has a bad tendency to leave her alone in his office and she isn't exactly computer stupid or inclined to mind her own business; then again, he might have done that intentionally. It's a very badly kept secret in her family that Fury wants her on board at SHIELD as soon as she finishes school and that he wants her in the loop before she joins. It's the reason things tended to 'slip out' when she's around, despite her father's glares.

"Darce, you there?" calls Clint, bringing Darcy's half-asleep mind back on the conversation. Right, Avengers roster. Clint made the team. She needs to say something believable.

"That's awesome Clint," congratulates Darcy, a yawn working its way out at the end of her sentence. "What are you gonna be doing?"

"I can't really say," admits Clint, his voice a bit sheepish. She could hear sadness in his tone, likely over the fact that he can't share more and it nearly drives her to tell him that she's already familiar with the roster. Except she might actually know more than _him_ at this point, so she kinda can't risk giving that piece of information away.

So she opts for comfort. "It's okay, Clint. That's cool all the same. Just be safe, okay? I don't wanna go back to sleeping alone on my breaks."

"Good to know where I stand with you," chuckles Clint. "Nat said I make a good body pillow."

"Yeah?" teases Darcy, shifting so she can rest her chin on her knees. "Just remember, you're _my_ body pillow now. She had her chance."

"She claims I'm still hers when she's cold until, and I quote, 'your mystery girlfriend shows herself'," states Clint, chuckling. "I don't think she believes you exist, no matter how amazing I tell her you are."

"Mm, I'll just have to correct her in person when I get to New York," jokes Darcy, another yawn blurring a few of her words as she speaks.

Clint's amused chuckle makes her smile. "Get back to sleep, Darce. We can talk about this when you've managed to get some coffee."

"That sounds good," agrees Darcy, yawning again as she shifts to snuggle down into her bed again. "Be safe, Clint."

"You too, Darce," returns Clint. "Be safe and don't let Jane drop anymore Norse gods into the world."

"I'll try to stop her," assures Darcy, "but I'm not holding my breath. She's stubborn."

"Not sure stubborn describes it," laughs Clint. "Night Darce."

"Night Clint," parts Darcy, listening as the dial tone filled her ears. It takes her a second to actually drop her phone back on her nightstand, her mind focusing on Clint's big news now that she doesn't have to worry about giving herself away.

The Avengers Initiative is like a doomsday team. They are literally going to be facing things normal people aren't considered capable of facing. The damn roster includes Captain freakin' America and Mr. definition-of-narcissism Stark. This wouldn't be some walk in the park team and making the roster is an honor; it's also terrifying for Darcy because she's seen the definition of what qualifies as an 'Avengers Emergency' spelled out on paper.

But even knowing Clint would be in horrible danger and that he'll basically be a 'dude with a bow' among superhumans and gods, she's happy for him. Clint wants this position. He wants the chance to be a good guy and do everything he can to keep the world safe. Even if he's just human, he has all of the will and drive of Cap. That drive to keep others safe? It's half of why she'd fallen for him (another fifth was his arms and the rest was just his personality). This kind of a position is precisely what he wants and she wouldn't dissuade him from taking it on.

Besides, she can always monitor what's happening from the control center.

Settling back down into her bed, Darcy closes her eyes and tries not to think too much about Clint's new position. It would be hard not to worry constantly about him, but she could do it. Clint needs her to support him, not express endless worry for his safety. Of course, the endless worry would be expressed to, but right now, when there isn't any danger, it's not the time. She'll wait until his first injury to express her worry. And until then, they'd just enjoy the fact that Clint has managed to prove he is absolutely extraordinary, even if he's only the guy with the bow.


	40. Prompt: Lost

**Prompt: **Lost

**From: **avengers-tables .livejournal **under 50-word prompt (yes, I do intent to use all 50 words)**

**Pairings: **Clint/Darcy

The noise was nearly defining. Between the huge cluster of excited graduates and the crowd, Darcy could barely hear. As it was, her skin was almost crawling from the high levels of concentrated energy. Even her own excitement couldn't alleviate that discomfort. Still, she wanted to to be there, even if it was nearly unbearable. She'd done it; she'd finished her degree. And today, she got to walk out in front of her friends and family to accept said degree. Today, she got to proclaim to the world that she'd succeeded.

All around her, students jostled and shouted, anxious to get moving. To finish the ceremony and head out to party. Darcy was anxious to get out herself, just for a very different reason. She just hoped her father was going to make it. When she came off the stage, she wanted to be able to run up and throw her arms around him. To hug him and share this milestone in her life.

Of course, if she could have had Clint and her dad there, she would have been ecstatic. But her dad would never come if Clint was going to be present- he couldn't. So she'd carefully avoided talking with Clint about her graduation ceremony, to her great displeasure. Now, she just hoped her dad really did show up. Otherwise, she would have avoided having Clint there with her for nothing.

An announcement came on over-head, telling students to take their seats and prompting everyone to quiet down. It took a few minutes, but the large auditorium finally fell silent just as the Dean of the University stepped forward to the podium.

"Hello, and welcome to everyone who's here today to watch this fine group of students graduate," welcomed the Dean before he began to delve into his long-winded speech. Darcy barely avoided rolling her eyes as he began rambling, instead closing her eyes and reaching out into the crowd in search of her father. There were so many people around, it was hard to tell anyone apart, particularly when the copious amounts of energy in the room were beginning to blend. Still, Darcy knew how to pinpoint someone individually.

Closing her eyes, she tuned out the drone of the Dean and focused on the energy around her. She scanned the group slowly, trying to locate her father's specific energy signature. He felt different from everyone else, obviously. There was something about him that was unique. Nothing jumped out at her as she scanned the people. No one even felt remotely like her father. Of course, that didn't mean he wasn't there- the sheer number of people could just be blocking her sense of where he was. It wouldn't be the first time.

"Darcy!" The whispered explanation from Nancy, her former roommate and classmate who was seated beside her, snapped Darcy back to reality right before applause filled the room. Apparently, it was time to start moving. Damn.

Standing, Darcy followed the line as they snaked around the chairs, her eyes all the while searching for her father. Sometimes when there were too many people around, she could find him visually as opposed to energetically. Again though, there were too many people. And knowing her father, he was hiding along the back wall somewhere, out of sight. Again, she reminded herself that just because she couldn't see or feel him didn't mean he wasn't there.

Smiling as best she could, Darcy collected her diploma from her dean, shook all the hands she had to as quickly as she could, and nearly darted off the stage. Why had she wanted to walk again? What had made her think this was a good idea?

_Because it's a milestone I should relish. It's something normal that everyone else does and damnit, I should be able to do one normal thing._

Well, she did plenty of normal things, she just tended to do them in an abnormal way. Like finding a boyfriend or completing her physics credits. Or meeting a god. Yeah, there really wasn't much that qualified as 'normal' about her life. Sadly.

Settling back into her seat from before, she waited as patiently as she could for the rest of the students to collect their diplomas and retake their seats. Her second sight continued to scan the crowd as she waited, looking for any sign of her father. Anything at all.

Something familiar in the crowd caught her attention, a hint of an energy signature that matched her father's perfectly. However, jostling around her broke her focus before she could tell more, the students around her rising with their hats in hand as the dean spoke. She scrambled to follow, throwing her hat in the air with the other students just in time. Then the true chaos began.

The students half rushed out of the auditorium, the teachers attempting to encourage them to file out in an organized fashion. It half worked, though not nearly as much as they'd likely hoped. As it was, Darcy still got jostled by those around her in a most uncomfortable way.

As soon as the group burst into sunlight, Darcy broke away. The breeze passing over the surrounding area was a blessing after the cramped air of the building. She nearly collapsed under a tree in relief, basking in the sun's warm glow. She'd need to look for her father of course, probably should text him to tell him where she was, but it could wait a minute. It wasn't like her father couldn't figure out where to look for her. He knew her as well as she knew herself.

Settling back against the tree's trunk, she again closed her eyes and reached out for her father. Almost immediately, she latched onto the energy source she'd recognized before once more. It was no where to be found though, having disappeared again in the chaos of the crowds. Which probably meant she'd imagined his energy. It would have hurt that he wasn't there if she didn't know an emergency had most likely been the reason.

Against her thigh, her phone vibrated. Without much thought, she pulled out the device and flipped it open. Sure enough, a text message from her father was splayed across the screen. [Congratulations, sweetheart. I'm proud of you.]

She tried to restrain her frustrated sigh, quickly typing back a response. [Thanks dad. Be careful doing whatever you're doing.]

"Darcy! There you are!"

A familiar voice, one she immediately recognized as Jane, had Darcy's head snapping up in shock. What was Jane doing there? Did that mean Thor was around? Geez, if he was, no wonder her father hadn't showed up. Or maybe he had but he hadn't been able to approach her because Jane was there. The thought made Darcy momentarily hate the scientist. Especially after she'd gone through so much effort to avoid talking with Clint about it. She loved her former boss, but she could have had both Jane and Clint there. It was her father who couldn't, wouldn't, come if they did.

The appearance of her former boss a few feet away wiped that irritation away though, her more rational side reminding her that it wasn't Jane's fault they had to keep her family a secret. Pushing back to her feet, she waved at the other woman and prepared for a hug or some other show of affection. Depending on Jane's mood, the scientist could be more...physically affectionate than Darcy was really comfortable with. "Hey boss-lady."

"Congratulations Darcy," stated Jane, pulling the former intern into a hug.

Darcy did her best not to show any discomfort as Jane hugged her- it was rare but she'd known it might be coming given the whole 'graduation is a big deal' thing. "Thanks. What're you doing here though?"

"Graduating is a big deal, Darcy," reminded Jane, pulling back to meet Darcy's eyes. "Plus, I wanted to come personally to bring you back to New York."

Right, New York. Jane had offered her a position as her assistant until she found a job in her field and Darcy hadn't wanted to turn the opportunity down. Besides, knowing the people she did, she'd probably end up in SHIELD anyway and, hey, this way it wouldn't be as suspicious. Not that she wasn't expecting a job offer from Fury pretty much as soon as he heard she was done, if he hadn't already. Her dad was probably still negotiating the term or something. It was the kind of thing he'd do.

"Jane, did you find her?" Two more women appeared then, to Darcy's great surprise. Both red-heads cut through the crowd with surprising ease given the amount of jostling that was going on. They managed to make it through though, both coming to a stop behind Jane.

The shorter woman on the left Darcy recognized after a second as none other that Pepper Potts, the assistant to Tony Stark and one-time CEO of Stark Industries. The former assistant, now girlfriend to the powerful man, offered them both a relieved look, holding out her hand towards Darcy with a smile. "You must be Darcy. I'm Pepper Potts."

"Hey," greeted Darcy, blinking up at Pepper in surprise as she carefully took the other woman's hand. The usual surge of images assaulted her mind as their skin momentarily touched, memories of people she knew and people she didn't flashing through her skull for a second before she released the CEO's hand. The flood immediately died back, though it didn't stop immediately. It would take a bit for the images to quit assaulting her like they were.

The darker haired red-head stepped forward next, offering Darcy her hand as well, though it was a far more deliberate gesture than Pepper's had been- less automatic and more calculated. "Natasha."

A red-head named Natasha? Immediately, her father's passing mention of a former Russian spy who'd been recruited by SHIELD crossed her mind. The girl had been named Natasha and had really red hair just like the woman before her. Huh.

"Hey," repeated Darcy, carefully taking the woman's hand and quickly releasing it. The woman's energy almost made her nauseous in it's intensity. She definitely wouldn't be touching Natasha again any time soon.

Natasha gave her a raised eyebrow but said nothing, dropping her hand to her waist almost casually as she gave Darcy a once-over. It made Darcy more than a little uneasy. Definitely had to be the same Natasha her father had talked about. There was no way there were two scary-ass redheads in SHIELD that could make someone's skin crawl like that.

"So, where's the god-o-thunder?" asked Darcy as casually as she could, wondering who else would appear out of nowhere. Part of her hoped Clint would make an appearance; if her dad wasn't going to show, she'd at least like her boyfriend there. The fact he hadn't appeared yet made her doubtful though.

"Thor is back in New York with the rest of the Avengers," explained Jane, her voice almost a touch giddy, as if the fact he was back was still some new and exciting thing. She clapped her hand over her mouth a second later though, eyes widening. "Oh god, I wasn't supposed to say that."

"It's alright, Jane," chuckled Natasha, eying Darcy with a look that was made her want to squirm. "She would have found out about the Avengers as soon as we were headed back to New York. I planned to debrief her on the plane."

Something in Natasha's voice told Darcy that the red-head had never intended to debrief her. In fact, it almost felt like Natasha somehow knew that she already knew about the Avengers. Except that was impossible, unless Darcy was giving something away with her micro expressions, which she knew she wasn't. Her dad had trained her out of that.

"Avengers?" asked Darcy, cocking an eyebrow curiously and feigning confusion. "What, like a band? Thor could play a wicked drum solo I bet, assuming he didn't pummel the drums to pieces."

"I think giving Thor any musical instrument might be a bad idea," remarked Pepper, her face scrunching up at some apparent memory or thought. Or maybe she was just imagining the noise Thor would create. Darcy could see him just wailing on the drums with no sense of rhythm or beat. It would probably sound pretty bad, too.

"Thor isn't Tony," pointed out Jane, apparently a bit insulted by Pepper's remark. "He probably wouldn't build something to make it play by itself or anything."

"Playing by itself wouldn't be the only use Tony would find for it," sighed Pepper, shaking her head a bit and turning towards Darcy. "Are you packed and ready to go already?"

Darcy's head kinda spun a little by the sudden change in topic, though it really shouldn't surprise her. Her dad had warned her that Pepper could sometimes change topics rapidly- apparently a side-effect from too much time with Tony. He didn't care because, well, he'd been around Darcy her whole life and she was the queen of random non-sequiturs. "Uh, like my apartment? Yeah, everything's already on its way home except, you know, what I'm carrying back."

"Already?" asked Jane in surprise, her eyebrow rising. "How did you know where to send your things?"

"They're going to my dad's," replied Darcy with a shrug as she stood fully and picked up her hat. They needed to get moving, otherwise this was going to get awkward. She tried not to mention her dad but, well, she obviously came from _somewhere_, right? It wasn't like she could avoid mentioning ever that she had parents. "He'll stash it until I come get it."

"Well, I suppose that saves us the trouble of helping you pack then," remarked Pepper with a soft smile, though how the woman had intended to help Darcy pack in what looked like they were probably $300 Louie Vattons, she wasn't sure. "We already booked a hotel for the night, so what do you say we all go to the spa and relax? This is a girl's weekend after all."

It is? Would have been nice if she'd known that. Still, Darcy wasn't going to turn down time in a spa so long as massages were out. Those weren't something she ever agreed to unless she really knew the person. Clint, she'd probably let massage her. That could be fun, actually. Not that she had any doubts that it would turn into sex pretty fast- it seemed like they could hardly be in the same room without stripping off each others' clothes. Not that she was complaining or anything. Who would complain about sharing a bed with someone like Clint?

"Darcy?" Jane's voice along with her hand on Darcy's shoulder brought Darcy's focus sharply back on the three women in front of her. "Spa day? Yes or not? It is your graduation after all."

She didn't give it much more than half a thought before nodding. "Sure, sounds fun."

Smiling, Pepper nodded and gestured for the group to follow her towards a limo that was waiting on the street nearby. Darcy's jaw might have dropped if she hadn't been expecting it. Pepper _was_ the girlfriend of Tony Stark, after all.

A glint caught Darcy's eye as they passed by the group of parents and students still crowded around the doors to the auditorium. The chatter and excitement was plainly evident in the air, just like it should be. What caught her attention though was the man standing near by in a Captain America tee-shirt and jeans with standard SHIELD-issue sunglasses covering his eyes. Even the baseball cap couldn't hide the fact that the man watching her was none other than her father, Phil Coulson.

She slowed a little, catching his eye as she did. All he did in return though was nod and offer her a proud smile. It wasn't the hug she'd wanted that day, but it was something. He was there and he'd watched her graduate. That much she knew just by the way he was smiling. It made her smile in return, the disappointment from before fading as a shout from Jane reminded her what she was doing.

Turning her focus back onto the other three women, Darcy hurried to catch up with them at the limo and practically dove into the back seat. It was a distraction to make sure none of them noticed the guy in his forties dressed in Captain America garb that was hanging out near the door to the auditorium. Even if her father didn't need the cover, Darcy was happy to provide it anyway. After all, he'd come to her graduation even though he probably knew some people pretty closely associated with the Avengers would be there, if not the Avengers themselves. It wasn't everything she could want, but for now, it was enough.


End file.
